For the Reclaimed
by Ego And Psyche
Summary: Egoist AU. Hiroki Kamijou heard it all, when he passed through the halls of T University: heard the falling of a body, the malicious laugh, and the heartless cry of 'Kusama's an abandoned child.' Things are not what they should be in this mirror of canon, and the Egoists find their positions reversed as their love struggles to triumph. Now rated M.
1. The Abandoned Child

_The Abandoned Child_

oOo

When he finally decided to step into the scene, a teacher already had the situation under some semblance of control; a man with dirty blond hair and a black eye was being escorted away, undoubtedly for medical attention, and a much younger-looking boy fumed under the reprimand he was receiving.

'…there is surely no reason for us to allow you access here if as an outsider, you choose to assault one of our students, no matter what the reason.' As the shorter—and older—of the two turned away with a disapproving _humph_, Hiroki saw that it wasn't a teacher at all: it was Miyagi Yoh, one of the few literature majors who had pursued the subject all the way into post-graduation. Rumor had it that he planned to get into teaching, and in spite of his notoriously clingy ways, Hiroki held a grudging sort of respect for the man.

_Good bluffing,_ he thought, knowing full well that students had no say in who was allowed on campus. _So who was that kid?_

Hiroki tried not to feel any curiosity as he continued on his way to the library. The boy had looked no older than eighteen, if that; the man he'd evidently punched seemed much older. And though he hadn't gotten a good look at either of their faces, the youth—who had the darkest hair he'd ever seen, darker than Miyagi's—had seemed righteously angry and not the least repentant.

What was it the other man had said?—_'Kusama's an abandoned child!'_

_Who's Kusama?_

He almost believed his shrug as he opened the door to the library. He knew had better things to do than wonder about a no doubt delinquent brat; unconcerned with the rest of the world as he usually was, his curiosity surprised him. _It's no business of mine._ The last thing he wanted, he thought, was to end up like one of those nosy classmates of his that he tried so hard to avoid.

_Indeed, I probably have only one classmate whom I don't avoid._

Said person, however, was never quite as eager to see _him._

He realized with a start that Akihiko was sitting right there, several tables away with his back to Hiroki and his face to a window, but there nonetheless. Their free classes coincided so rarely that it took quite some effort for him to stay where he was and not go over.

The decision was instinctive, but not arbitrary. It had been a while since Hiroki had concluded that, no matter what _his_ feelings, Akihiko and he were growing apart by the day. It had been so ever since they left their childhood homes for university; ever since, in fact, Akihiko had first told him of his classmate and new friend, Takahiro. By the time the young author had come to terms with his feelings for the man four years ago, Hiroki had been devastated but not surprised. If not from any logical process, then a simple lack of faith in his own luck had warned him of something similar from the beginning.

_I think I always knew something like that would happen._

A familiar swell of wretchedness broke over him. _I always knew, didn't I, that it would be hopeless to love him?_ He had known…he knew now the futility of hoping, of even waiting like this, and yet…his eyes remained, with the grim hunger of a homeless man, on the back of the silver head for the next forty minutes.

Akihiko did not turn around.

oOo

The dark-haired boy had been forgotten by the time Hiroki exited T University later that day, and it was with some surprise that he recognized the figure standing next to the main gate. No longer disheveled, but still looking thoroughly unhappy, he seemed a lot taller now than he had in the morning.

Hiroki's feet had carried him in a full circle and towards the boy before he knew what he was doing.

_What am I doing here?_

The thought flew past his mind, all but unnoticed; as he approached, he noted with considerable annoyance that the boy was at least a couple of inches taller than him. _Damn overgrown brat._ Unsure of himself, furious at his upset equilibrium, as soon as he was within earshot he began with a rough, 'Oi.'

The boy, who had been gazing into space, now turned obligingly towards Hiroki. 'How may I help you?' he asked, voice disinterested but gentle.

He had startlingly blue eyes that were currently mild with inquiry. Hiroki felt his uncertainty multiply tenfold. _Really, what _am _I doing here?_ 'Ano…' he struggled not to trail off into mumbles, and said a bit too loudly, 'nice to meet you, I'm Kamijou Hiroki.'

'All right…' the boy looked at him more curiously now, intending him to continue. A blush fanned out on the literature student's face as he realized how idiotic he must seem; nonetheless, the urge to know was stronger than the urge to just apologize and run away. He cleared his throat and said, words tumbling over each other, 'Um—I was passing by when you—I mean, in the University—this morning?'

'You want to know why I punched that man.' It wasn't a question. 'Because I was angry, and I felt like he deserved it.' A brief pause, as though to consider. 'I still do.'

'Umm', said Hiroki, now fully aware of the boy's reluctance, somewhat mortified, and still burningly curious. 'Well—as a student of the University, I demand to know the reason!' His blush grew warmer under the impassive scrutiny of those eyes. He had never seen anything quite so blue.

A wan, tired smile broke out on the boy's face. 'As someone who won't be returning to the University any time soon, I must respectfully refuse to answer. It's just today that I'm here.' He gave a polite nod and turned away. 'In fact, I think I'll be leaving now. If you'll just excuse me.'

He had not gone two steps when Hiroki grabbed his upper arm and held him back, heart pounding in his ears; as the unmistakably handsome features registered surprise and irritation, the smaller man asked tentatively, 'W-why weren't you at your own school then, instead of a university you don't attend?'

_What am I doing?_

To his astonishment, something softened in the exhausted, glittery blue eyes as the boy replied, 'because I haven't been to school since I was fourteen.' Whether it was fatigue or a sense of giving up, Hiroki did not know, but he felt the arm leave his shock-limp grasp with unexpected reluctance.

'I'm Kusama Nowaki', added the boy, with another sweet, somewhat forlorn smile. 'Nice to meet you too, though I don't suppose it'll happen again.'

'_Kusama's an abandoned child!'_

Hiroki nodded helplessly, and a part of him wondered at the strangeness in his heart when Kusama Nowaki began walking away; he turned around and released a breath of some inexplicable emotion as, without his knowing, the dark-haired boy with deep blue eyes looked back for what he thought would be one last glimpse of him.

He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be waiting for Akihiko.

oOo

**[A/N] I do know where this is going, but I can promise y'all that this is not going to be updated with the same breakneck speed that 'Shoudou' (my Junjou Minimum and onward from Akihiko's POV) is/was…maybe a chapter every three days or so, though I don't think it should take longer than that. The plot's kinda…hazy in my head, even if I'm not really in a fog or anything. I've just realized that writing AU is OMFG t i r i n g, and I'm still practicing Egoist as well so I've got a bit of a headache now. Anyway…if you wanna know what happens next, do review.**

**(The rest of the chapters are going to be longer than this. For some reason it's always my first chapter that's the shortest.)**

**And oi, all you Shoudou readers, I mean it when I say that I'm perfectly capable of keeping you people from the blindfold scene if you don't review. It ain't blackmail; without reviews I get the impression that you simply aren't bothered. Don't see why I should be updating at all then.**


	2. The Mother and the Virgin

_The Mother and the Virgin_

**[A/N] Hmm, I have no clue how things ended up this way, but they did. If it sucks I'd like to know plzkthnx. Criticism is welcomed every bit as much as praise; what I can't stand is apathy.**

**Thank you, reviewers ^_^ that wasn't so hard, was it? Amelie, your review was spot on in the sense that what I'm actually trying to do is flip the canon here. Nowaki's going to be a bit more withdrawn, and Hiroki a bit more persistent, than what you're used to. Having said that, though, I'm trying my hardest to stay in character here despite the reversal. Glad to know you're enjoying it, HirokiNoFan and Damons; and of course my incredible Sakana-senpai is welcome to all my stories ^_^**

**X: Fire away. Let's see whatchya got :P And 'kono hito ga suki da' is a direct quote from Nowaki. JR Season 2 Episode 4, before Hiroki says 'I'm cold'. I put it in that way to play it safe. ^_^**

**The blindfold scene for Shoudou will arrive in good time…when enough people seem to wanna read it…**

oOo

Kusama Nowaki was in equal parts exasperated and touched as he turned away from the person who had apprehended him. The student's questions had certainly riled him up somewhat, but after having snapped once that day he hadn't the energy to muster up enough anger, substituting the snappish remark coiled on his tongue for a smile and the truth. And speaking of truth…if he was being honest with himself, he had also found the smaller boy's curiosity somewhat appealing.

He hadn't looked any older than Nowaki himself, though Nowaki supposed he must be at least a year older if already studying in university. If the dark-haired boy had had the fortune of continuing his studies after middle school he would have been studying for university examinations now; as things stood, though, without sitting for a proficiency exam he would never have that privilege. Six part-time jobs ate into his time enough that he wouldn't be able to study much, even if he found someone to tutor him.

_That boy—Kamijou Hiroki?—seemed smart._ The thought was as sudden as it was unexpected. It was true, though—he'd seen a blazing intelligence in those hazel eyes; an intelligence offset, at that moment, by considerable embarrassment. It was probably why he was so unexpectedly moved by those questions. _He didn't seem like the kind of person to pry into others' lives just for the sake of being nosy._

_And that blush,_ he thought suddenly_, was kind of cute._

Nowaki chuckled at himself as he walked the last few blocks to his house; it had been a long day, and when tired, his mind tended to come up with the strangest things. He knew, however, that the day was far from over. He had Tsumori to think of now, after all.

oOo

Tsumori had been sent home from the University after receiving the spectacular black eye that Nowaki had presented him with, and he now greeted his flatmate with a sneer. 'Back so soon, dahling?' he asked pleasantly. 'I fully expected you to be mooning around _my_ university for an hour more.'

Nowaki ignored him as he slipped off his shoes and began shouldering out of his coat.

Tsumori, one hand still caressing his eye, slunk over to him in what he must have thought was an elegant manner. 'Don't be like that, dahling', he purred. 'You know I love you anyway, right?' A gleam-eyed grin. 'Uptight as you are, you're going to die a virgin, let me tell you.'

'Yuichi', muttered Nowaki, face heating, 'will you please just shut up for today.' He was in no mood for another confrontation with the man he was supposed to be taking care of. While he could not bring himself to regret the punch from that morning, he knew there would be hell to pay if Tsumori's mother got wind of it; as things stood, it was a wonder he had been given a roof above his head in the first place.

And that Tsumori had got to him far more than he suspected with his last remark was something he would not admit. Ever.

'You know, _Nowaki',_ Tsumori was saying obliviously now, 'mom's coming to see me in a few days.'

_Great._ 'And what about it?' asked Nowaki nonchalantly, moving past Tsumori to head for the shower.

And if she saw the black eye, there was no telling if Nowaki would be on the street or not. Tsumori simply laughed. 'Enjoy your shower, Kusama, while you can still have one.'

_Like he'd throw me out! He depends on me like a child._

So Nowaki tried not to feel the chill in his stomach as he closed the shower door behind him and let out a breath. It was probably lucky that he had no energy for anger at present; then again, he still needed to get to his evening shift at the grocery store and not look dead on his feet. He eventually sank to the floor of the shower with a bar of soap, closing his eyes under the steaming jet and trying not to fall asleep in the process.

Following an attempt to run away from his orphanage at the age of seven, shortly afterwards he had been 'adopted' as a playmate for ten-year-old Tsumori Yuichi, the only child of a successful, but widowed, businesswoman who had no time for parenting. As a woman who evidently cared about her son nonetheless, she had given Nowaki the dubious privilege of staying by little Yuichi's side at all times. In the years that he lived with his adoptive mother and sibling, however, without any of them realizing it his status had degenerated from son to attendant to personal servant.

It had been three years since Tsumori moved out to begin attending college, and Nowaki had moved with him. As there was no high school close to the apartment his 'master' had chosen, the woman had simply decided that it was perhaps time for him to begin working.

In some ways, though, Nowaki's naturally cheerful disposition supposed his situation wasn't as bad as it could have been. As he paid nothing for the apartment, he could save all the money from his part-time jobs for when he would finally continue his studies; Tsumori was spoiled and immature, but not always disagreeable. The jibe that had earned him his black eye was one that he had often used when they were younger to try and get a rise out of Nowaki. The teen had never really been able to get used to being called 'abandoned', not when it was so close to the truth.

Tsumori had forgotten a textbook that he urgently needed for his class, so he'd simply texted Nowaki, telling him to bring it. On reflection, Nowaki wondered if that hadn't been just to torment him. It was an open secret that he was jealous of Tsumori's college-going privileges, and the man would of course have loved to rub it in.

Once he got there, things hadn't been made easier for him; he'd had to go straight into the university building and find his way over to the blond's classroom. Thankfully—or not—he arrived at the lull between classes, just in time to give him the book, do a poor job of hiding his wistfulness, and hear those words again.

'_Don't look like that, dahling. Some people simply aren't meant to study, and after all…Kusama's an abandoned child!'_

He no longer knew if it was 'abandoned' or 'child' that angered him so much.

oOo

'Hey, Wacchan.'

Nowaki looked up from the groceries he was bagging for a customer, to see the store owner, Yamada-san, smiling genially at him. He smiled back with as much vigor as he could muster. 'Good evening, Yamada-san. How have you been?'

'Oh, I've been surviving', beamed Yamada, though his tone suggested much happier times than that. 'What I wanted to ask you was: would it be possible to arrange another meeting with that very interesting gentleman, Reniyo-san?'

Reniyo was another of Nowaki's employers, and the two men had met when the dark-haired boy had been moving from one job to the other. They seemed to have got along extremely well, as Yamada often remarked that he would like to see him again. Nowaki considered. 'Well…I could ask him tomorrow, after I finish my paper route. He often speaks about you too. He was mentioning going for a friendly picnic one day, in fact.' He bit his tongue immediately.

'That would be splendid!' Yamada said enthusiastically. 'I've always wanted to try launching rockets, so maybe we can do that too when we're there! You could help too, Wacchan.'

While Nowaki wasn't much for the idea of spending his free time launching rockets with an old man, he nodded politely and said he would talk to Reniyo-san about it, praying that the two men would not be free on the same weekend.

As luck had it, they were, and that was the last stroke of _good_ luck Nowaki would have in a while. But he had no way of knowing that as he worked through the days and waited ruefully for the weekend to come.

oOo

**[A/N] The next chapter is a very, very twisted form of the rocket scene. Expect several canon butcherings in this story :) I AM trying to flip it, after all.**


	3. Fallen

_Fallen_

**[A/N] MOAR REVIEWS, YAY. Would it have killed y'all to review Shoudou like this? Sorry for harping, it's just that that fic is officially my baby, so it pinches when people don't seem to care about it. Um, okay all advertising aside, thank you, those who reviewed this. Replies are at the bottom because I'm finally getting too many to answer at the top ^_^**

**So anyway. Hooray for the crazy twisted WTF hopefully-not-crackish rocket scene! [Fail title is fail. That's why I'm afraid it sounds crackish.]**

oOo

'Hey, Wa-chan! Come on!'

Nowaki looked up from the tuft of grass he'd been worrying with a morose toe, smile firmly in place. 'Yes, Yamada-san?'

The old man sparkled at him from where he was bending over a plastic rocket. 'Come here, Wa-chan!' he called cheerfully. 'We've got to make this baby go up!'

Cursing the letter 'wa', Nowaki made his reluctant way over to the old man. Reniyo was at least marginally better inasmuch that he hadn't brought any of the broken dreams of his youth over to a picnic in the park. 'I'd wanted to be an astronaut when I was a boy, Wa-chan', Yamada had said dreamily to the boy with no time for dreams. 'Unfortunately, my father fell ill and I had to abandon my plan in favor of a regular convenience store.'

He hadn't noticed Nowaki's eye twitch at the word 'abandon', and the two old men—along with a friend of Reniyo's called Hayakawa—had trooped merrily off to the neighborhood park with the teen in two. Now, two hours and several beers later, Yamada had conjured a ridiculous-looking plastic rocket and what appeared to be a bicycle pump which he had no strength to work himself.

Nowaki had anyway been bored to tears all morning, but this seemed to defy logic as well.

_So how does this make _him_ the astronaut if I'm going to be the one launching it?_

Stifling a yawn, he jogged over to the blue rocket and the pump-like thing, which Yamada explained was supposed to send the rocket up using air pressure. Despite Nowaki's limited education, he was sure that normal rockets weren't launched using a similar process, and wondered if this might not be some age-induced childishness instead of a dubious dream on the old man's part.

_I'm barely out of childhood myself; I should not be having to babysit old men on my day off,_ he thought tetchily. In no mood to look his usual chipper self, he simply took position over the rocket and began pumping.

'Wa-chan!' said Yamada suddenly, placing a hand on his arm. 'Stop!'

Nowaki straightened up, genuinely exasperated. 'Yes, Yamada-san?'

'That's no way to pump air into a rocket!' Yamada seemed genuinely scandalized, wagging a jocular finger in the dark-haired boy's face. 'Honestly, you'd think that was a bicycle or something!' a round of laughs floated to them from where Reniyo and Hayakawa were apparently enjoying the scene. Nowaki could feel an unreasonable blush heating his cheeks and tried to fight it down. 'Well, Yamada-san, please show me how to do it then', he said through gritted teeth, thinking grim thoughts of all his employers and praying for composure.

It took another ten minutes for Yamada to announce to nobody in particular that Nowaki was adequate in the skill of launching a plastic rocket; without waiting for a signal, the boy now began pumping away as fast as he could. _Just get this stupidity over with._

'Wa-chan! Not so fast! It'll fly out of control—'

It was too late. The rocket spun haphazardly out of its stays, peaking at a reasonably high point above their heads and plummeting to the ground beyond a line of trees that ranged through the park. Nowaki stared at where the rocket had disappeared from view with listless eyes before turning to Yamada, who didn't look pleased.

'Now, now', he admonished, 'what did I tell you about waiting for the pressure to level out, Wa-chan?'

'_Wa-chan' is too young, but he probably needs a drink right now._ 'Sorry, Yamada-san', he said tonelessly. 'I'll go get it.'

He set off at a dispirited jog towards the trees. He'd been drained throughout the week for no good reason, and Mama Tsumori's visit the previous day hadn't helped matters. As he'd thought, when it came to reality Yuichi asked his mother to give Nowaki a 'second chance'. Considering how the man had proceeded to lord his new kindness over the younger boy's head, though, now Nowaki was seriously wondering if he shouldn't have been thrown out instead.

'_Ah, now surely you must reward me for my mercy, dahling.'_

_I'm sure his habit of calling me that is one of the reasons I'm screwed up,_ Nowaki declared to himself with deliberation. Though far too busy, both inside and out, to think of anything outside his jobs, it had been several years since he'd first determined that there was a reason he was not perpetually in hate with his pseudo-master. _It's his fault._

_And all that about me dying a virgin…from him…!_

The train of thought was unloaded in favor of a more constructive one that Nowaki could think about less painfully.

Tsumori had now taken it upon himself to suffer from insomnia as well. Predictably, last night Nowaki had been woken up at two a.m. to make tea. _So what kind of murder does he have on his conscience now that he can't sleep?_ He'd thought dryly. The man had always been a sound sleeper, but thanks to the disruption in his much-needed rest, Nowaki had overslept and missed his morning paper route. _I hope I don't get fired._

If he did, his savings margin would decrease, but the more pressing problem—that he would have less chances of finding an affordable apartment to live alone—suddenly seemed a lot worse.

_When did getting away from Yuichi become more important than college?_

He'd reached the trees before realizing it; to his horror, when he cleared the bushes and finally sighted the rocket, it wasn't much of a rocket anymore. He gazed at the crater-like depression that the toy had created in the earth. While neither big nor deep, he was surprised at the impact that the little thing had created, and even more so at the fact that it wasn't so much a rocket anymore as it was a smoking piece of wreckage.

Not bothering to pick it out of its throne of destruction, he sat heavily on a nearby bench and rested his forearms on his knees, letting his head hang low. _Guess this is what they call crashing and burning._ He sighed. _Now Yamada's going to be mad, too._

Tears, like anger, did not come easily to Nowaki. A childhood of self-abnegation and sacrifice had taught him to put on a smile in the face of the unhappiest of circumstances. Of late, though, he had found his façade, though endearing, to many, beginning to crack. It was as though the last 'abandoned child' jab at him, combined with a steady sensation of burning out with his six jobs, was sapping him of all positive energy; the rocket wasn't the only thing that had crashed and burned. It was, however, the last straw.

_I'm so tired,_ he thought bleakly, to weary to be surprised when he felt tears welling up, too weary even to resist. _I don't know how much more of this I can take._

He did not resist the wetness surging down his cheeks. Something was telling him, very convincingly, that this was the beginning of the end for him. Melodramatic as the thought was, it only made him feel worse.

_I want out. I want an exit. I'm too young for this._

The exit arrived within the minute in the form of a growl, telling him to get the hell up.

oOo

**Okay, so this is going to be a two-part scene. I don't like switching POV's within a chapter. Now review or you're never going to get Hiroki's half of this XD**

**Damons: your reviews are too cute…but that's really all I want. Just somebody reminding me that they're waiting. It does wonders.**

**Slouph and Ricchan: glad to see you here on this fic too :D hope your teeth are better, Slouph, and yeah, they're the same age! *adores the author-reviewer relationship* Sakana-senpai: I don't like Tsumori XD because he's a wannabe third wheel. Plus Don't Preach's Neko Hiro just made me dislike him further. [Her fics have a bad habit of interfering with my head canon even if they're AU.]**

**Storm: I totally thought that too! Well if he cried like that in front of me I'd have done a Miyagi and to hell with the punches I'd get later ^_^ besides, gentleman!Nowaki wouldn't hit a teenage girl, would he? I'm not so sure about the one I'm describing here though…:P**


	4. Picked

_Picked_

**[A/N] Here we go…good to see you here, Cerberus-sensei…I hope my characterization of Hiroki is to your liking? By the way, good guess with the candy bit, that also figures here somewhere ^_^ Ricchan – Nice way to put it: anti-Nowaki :P Though this isn't really OOC of Nowaki, you know, he has his weary moments like the rest of us. So, after we acknowledge Damons being cute again…enjoy.**

oOo

When Hiroki had first seen from a distance that his usual bench was occupied, his initial thoughts were to kick the offending party out; it had not been a good day for him so far. What with his senior thesis dragging itself along and Akihiko taking his bed—again—he was hard-pressed not to give in to that temptation, but reason won over in a few moments and he decided to look for another place to sit in peace.

By then, however, he was close enough to the bench that he could make out the hunched figure with a medium-sized crater smoking before it. His curiosity getting the better of him, he continued on his originally intended path until he could make out the shaggy dark head of hair that flopped in front of the man's face, waving dully in the breeze.

He was sure that no two shades of black could be that similar and not the same. _The darkest hair I'd ever seen…it couldn't be…?_

He'd taken the rest of the steps required to close the distance between himself and the person sitting on the bench, with his head hanging low. From a yard away, he looked on for a moment, wide-eyed.

_That's surely the kid from the university that day…_

_Kusama Nowaki?_

Not bothering to wonder why he remembered the name, he felt his momentarily soothed impatience beginning to peak again. _What's with him, always moping?_ He still felt the piercing, careworn blue eyes on him from four days ago, heard the soft voice say 'Pleased to meet you too, though I don't suppose it'll happen again.'

For some reason or the other—seeing the boy like this was beginning to get on his nerves. He'd had a bad day so far, and this sort of situation offered to him only one course of action.

He stepped closer. 'Oi. Get the hell up.'

The dark head rose and let watery eyes meet Hiroki's russet ones. There was a moment of relief as he realized that it indeed _was_ Kusama Nowaki—he would never have got over the embarrassment of speaking that way to a complete stranger—and then the world went white.

When some sense returned to him, Hiroki found that he had taken a step back, unable to look from such close quarters into the storm of misery that the boy's face bespoke. The blameless blue eyes were clearly wet, but that was the least of it; Hiroki struggled against the urge to look away as he took in the trembling lower lip, the embarrassingly pink nose, the mocking cling of a tear to the firm chin. What with the crater next to him, he looked the picture of desolation…

But he also looked something else that Hiroki was appalled at thinking of. There was no doubt— not one sublime sliver—that the dark-haired boy was looking unbelievably beautiful.

It was this last thought that kept him silent for as long as he did before he gathered his wits about him again. 'Not contemplating suicide now, are you?' he snorted. 'What's gotten into you?' He was certain that he'd been recognized; there was no confusion on the handsome, tear-stained face, and he'd surely seen a spark of remembrance in those eyes.

Nowaki—Hiroki found himself unable to think of the boy as 'Kusama'—seemed to blink himself out of a daze as he dropped his eyes again and hastily brought a hand to his face. He took two long, shuddery breaths before mumbling, 'Nothing.'

'So you randomly sit on park benches on a day like this and decide to cry your eyes out?' muttered Hiroki incredulously. Nowaki flushed a deeper pink at this. 'I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your view of a beautiful day', he said softly, voice not without a tremble, 'but it's still my business, I'm sure.'

Hiroki sighed in momentary defeat and, to his own astonishment, snapped, 'Fine. Just budge up a little then, you're huge.'

Nowaki shrugged in a weak, droopy manner that Hiroki decided didn't suit him, and scooted up the bench to allow some room to sit. Another _what am I doing here_ flashed briefly through Hiroki and was gone as the brown-haired man took a seat.

He tried to ignore the eyes on him, nodding pointedly at the debris in front of them. 'This belong to you?'

An unamused chuckle proceeded from the teen. 'No, but it's my fault that it's this way.'

Hiroki uttered a non-committal 'hmm' as he surveyed the damage; he could make out the tip of something undoubtedly cylindrical, smell the acrid tang of heated plastic. As he cocked his head to the side, he saw the blue remnants of what appeared to be fins.

'Is that some sort of missile you launched there?' he asked presently, wondering if this indistinguishable mess was what had the kid so upset. Hoping that it wasn't something so immature, somehow knowing that it wasn't.

'Toy rocket', said Nowaki in a dull voice. 'It isn't mine.'

Right on cue, an old man's quaver sounded a few yards off to the side. 'Hey, Wa-chan! Did you find the rocket?'

'Your grandfather?' asked Hiroki quietly, watching the man make his way over to them. Nowaki seemed to consider rolling his eyes, but instead replied quickly, 'Just my employer.'

_Oh, right…he said he didn't go to school._ It made sense that he would have some sort of part-time job, then, and if this employer of his—who seemed to be the owner of the rocket—saw what he'd done, Hiroki couldn't imagine him being very happy about it. _What sort of person spends their day frolicking in the park with an old man, anyway?_

The man had reached them and was observing the wreckage with a peculiar combination of interest and horror. 'Gods, is _that_ the rocket?'

'Was', mumbled Nowaki, rising to his feet in the older man's presence; Hiroki followed suit after shooting a keen glance at the man who was apparently employing the boy. He seemed to be stereotypically merry, if anything _but_ at present, and rather stupid. Hiroki found himself disliking him immediately and to his surprise, he sensed his mind searching for ways to get Nowaki out of the trouble that he was now bound to be in.

Before he could hear any sort of reprimand cross the geezer's angry mouth, he heard himself say, 'It's my fault, actually.'

Two pairs of eyes rounded on him, one narrowed, the other widened.

'Um, yeah, I was smoking, you see', he invented wildly, 'and I…threw the stub to the ground without putting it out, and the grass caught fire…and then the rocket just—happened to land in the middle of it all.' He prayed that the man was too far to detect any smell, or lack thereof, on his breath. 'When I was trying to stamp out the fire', he finished lamely—why did he have to go red, now?—'so, ah—yeah. It's my fault. I'll—pay for the rocket if you wish.'

Hiroki held his breath as the man scowled lightly for a moment and then relaxed. 'All right…I knew Wa-chan wouldn't do anything like that, anyway. It's all right about the money.'

Knowing that if he'd really been in this position, his pride would not have allowed him to walk away, he began protesting, 'but no, I should really pay—'

'It's fine, like I said', the man cut in, face beaming, eyes not, 'besides, you'll want to save that money for when the _park authorities _get to know! Come on, Wa-chan, let's go!' _Sadistic bastard._

Hiroki's alarming streak of altruism didn't seem to be done yet. 'I'm sorry, sir, but the boy is evidently unwell. He inhaled a lot of the vapors from the burning plastic and that sort of thing is poisonous, so he might suffer from nausea for several hours.'

The old man sniffed. 'And who are you, young man, to know so much about his health and sickness?'

'I'm a senior in college', Hiroki snapped; the man's attitude intensified his impulse to bandy the truth, so… 'and I study medicine, so I flatter myself I know a bit more about anybody's _health and sickness_ than you do. Sir', he added spitefully, glaring into the bespectacled eyes. He did not feel Nowaki start beside him.

The old man gave him what he evidently thought was a venomous look, before snorting and turning away. 'Well, that's that, then. Wa-chan, rest for the weekend, but I expect to see you back on Monday.'

Nowaki did not nod as the hunched back retreated through the trees; he was looking at his shoes. 'Why did you have to do that?' he asked finally. 'I could have handled it fine on my own.'

'Sure you could', said Hiroki sarcastically. 'He would've fired you.'

The blue eyes seemed to grin wryly. 'It's fine, I have five other part-time jobs anyway.'

_The hell?_ 'What do you want to do with five jobs at this age?' asked Hiroki, stunned. Added to the fact that the boy was working when he should have been studying, the thought of him juggling six different jobs suddenly seemed to put that tiredness into a much clearer perspective.

'Speaking of age', said Nowaki, frowning as he sat back down, 'are you really a senior?'

'And why wouldn't I be?' said Hiroki hotly. 'And no medicine for me, I study Japanese literature, I'll have you know! You didn't answer my question, kid. Why d'you have to work like that?'

Nowaki said something that Hiroki didn't catch. 'You're going to have to speak up', he said roughly, and his heart gave a harsh, aching clench when he heard the sweet voice say, 'I want to go to college.'

_Ah, shit._

He'd apparently touched something painful in the boy, who was still looking resolutely at the ground, cheeks aflame. Hiroki sucked on air, wondering at the strange pain in his chest every bit as much as the fate the boy had somehow found himself up against. An image of the tall, tired figure loitering aimlessly outside T University, watching the students go their happy ways home, came to him and he closed his eyes fiercely; it was a completely new emotion, this unnamed thing rising in him.

Nowaki's stomach rumbled.

Honeyed eyes opened and an eyebrow rose at the prettily blushing teen. 'Excuse me', he was muttering, one arm around his stomach now. 'I haven't eaten since morning, so…'

While Hiroki knew it was ridiculous to suppose that a boy with six jobs couldn't at least buy himself a meal, the born-rich-and-talented child in him gaped at the revelations of Nowaki's obviously impoverished circumstances and his hands plunged into his pockets automatically. He was relieved to find that it was still there; the small bar of candy that he'd been given at a convenience store a day ago, when the cashier had no change.

He held it out to Nowaki, feeling his own blush start to simmer. 'Here.'

Nowaki simply looked at him with eyes big and blue and surprised…and grateful. After a moment of stubborn staring, he took the candy from Hiroki's outstretched hand with shaking fingers, and as a palm brushed against another, Hiroki was surprised at how warm his hands were.

'Eat it and buck up', he said sharply, sitting down again. 'While I don't get what exactly has happened to you…these are just obstacles that a man will have to go through. Tighten your fists and face them bravely for your own sake.'

Nowaki's hands toyed with the wrapper as he gazed meditatively at Hiroki.

Then he smiled; it was not the exhausted pretense that he had put on at the university, nor was it the respectfully worn-out one that the literature student had noticed when confronted by his employer. For once, Kusama Nowaki seemed to have more energy shining through him than Hiroki had ever suspected…for once, Hiroki could imagine a similarly smiling little boy, untainted in his sweetness before the weight of the world began to crush him.

He looked away. 'Hey, listen', he was now saying, without planning it, without thinking. 'When did you leave off studying?' He couldn't look at the face of the boy who said, 'Eighth grade.'

_Four years._ 'You'll have to take an equivalency exam before anything else, you know.'

'I suppose', muttered Nowaki, suddenly sullen. 'If I can study for it.'

Hiroki watched the large, warm hands tear off a strip of the candy wrapper and ordered himself to give his idea a second thought. As Nowaki gave the candy another smile—feebly weary again—he had to disobey. _I don't even know this kid. And I don't even care about that._

From the eye of the storm that his thoughts were kicking up, he said, 'I'll tutor you, if you want.'

_Just say yes._ He despised himself for thinking it, but…_just say yes now, because I won't ask again._ The fact that Nowaki probably needed every bit of the money he was saving for college occurred to him; while he didn't care for money himself, he knew that his own pride, at least, would not have let him accept favors like this. He decided to make it easier.

'If you're worrying about paying me, you could just do it in kind.' Something perverted came to his mind and he blushed. 'I mean, you could—cook meals or something.'

It was, nonetheless, quite a while before Nowaki broke the ensuing silence to say yes. But Hiroki did not have to ask again. When acceptance finally came, he offered a rare smile of his own and stood. 'Come on, then.'

When Nowaki did not rise, the brown eyes rolled. 'Too tired?' asked the man, aware that this was very likely the case. A fresh wave of resolution surged over Hiroki: _no one should be made to feel like this._

The scene was disturbingly similar to the way he stumbled across himself sometimes, washing up on the shores of consciousness among his mountains of books…with no fire or pride in his heart, only Akihiko. _Feel like you have nothing to live for…_

It was that feeling that had pulled him away from his apartment today in the first place.

_No one deserves to feel like me._

Nowaki sighed and got to his feet with a soft, 'maybe.'

oOo

**[A/N] Okay, I lied. This is a three-parter scene with another enormous canon mincing in the next chapter. And it ain't getting here without reviews. XD So review.**


	5. Carried

_Carried_

**[A/N] Ah, hell, the third part of this kinda…went up in flames, so it's pretty short. But later on in this chapter you're going to get the butchering all right. And oh my god what a BUTCHERING it is. I hope nobody else ever gets the insane desire to do anything like what I'm doing. :O I know I love Akihiko and everything, but this sentiment obviously isn't shared by sweet adorable Nowaki so unfortunately he's going to be a bit of a pompous ass here, though still pure-hearted and caring like I believe is really is. [I just finished Shoudou, and I so miss that man now *cries*]**

oOo

The real reason Nowaki had accepted the offer was not his desperation to study; it was not the utter hopelessness in the midst of which the question had arisen, nor the candy, heartwarming as that was.

It was because of Kamijou Hiroki himself.

The brown eyes had been lowered after Hiroki's suggestion, so Nowaki had been able to look on unabashedly at the blush dancing on those pale cheeks, even as the brow stayed furrowed. He'd never really forgotten the person who'd so awkwardly asked him what was wrong that day at Yuichi's university; hadn't that been the real intent, underneath all the squirming embarrassment that had so obviously plagued the brunet? To ask what was wrong with him?

Starved for affection as he was, something in the dark-haired boy's big heart had been ridiculously grateful for that innocent interest. _No…I don't think I ever forgot him._ Even through his tears and distraught misery, when he'd heard the voice, looked into those eyes again, he recognized him immediately.

Maybe even a little too soon.

But that made up only half of the reason that was Hiroki…the other half was that in the moment they'd locked eyes, Nowaki had felt like he was looking into a mirror. The sensation was brief and curtained hastily by annoyance, but it had existed just as surely as the moisture streaking his face: the man who had just offered to be his tutor was doing a damned good job of hiding it. But that didn't change the fact that he was every bit as weary as Nowaki himself.

In equal measures curious, saddened and wonderfully stirred, he accepted the offer. When Hiroki smiled, the giddy swoosh in Nowaki's belly was only the first of many reactions that he would gradually welcome as the hearth of his abused feelings began to crackle with warmth.

oOo

'Where d'you think you're going, dahling?'

Nowaki restrained himself from rolling his eyes with great difficulty as he slipped on his shoes. 'Out.'

'Got a boyfriend?'

'No.'

'Got a date?'

'Something like that', grumbled Nowaki. He hadn't found it necessary to tell Yuichi about his new tutor, and he certainly didn't want to be late for his first ever study session. It had been a pinch for him to quit his much-dreaded grocery store shift—much to Yamada's chagrin—but it freed up some of his evenings, making it easier for him to coordinate with the older man's equally busy schedule.

It had been a week since they'd met in the park; this was the first evening that both of them were free on, and Nowaki had a very grim feeling about the look on Yuichi's face. He straightened up and shoved his new notebook deeper into pocket of his jacket.

'I thought _we_ had a date tonight?' smiled the blond man pleasantly. 'What happened to making dinner?'

_I have to make dinner elsewhere, that's what._ Nowaki shrugged distractedly. 'I'm sorry, but I have someplace urgent to go, so not tonight.'

'Urgent, now, is it', was the last thing he heard before shutting the door between the two of them. _Yes. Urgent._

He whipped out his phone and bit back a curse on seeing that he might be late. Frantically dialing Hiroki's number as he sprinted down the stairs, as soon as the phone picked up he began, 'Good evening, Kamijou-san, it's Nowaki—'

'Nowaki!' came the now-familiar growl, with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. 'Thank god, I was beginning to worry about you!'

Nowaki's brow crinkled in confusion. 'Surely I'm not late already?' he rounded a corner, struggling not to pant on the phone as he slowed to a jog towards the train station.

'Oh, no', the voice assured him, 'it's just that I wondered where you were, you usually call…' it trailed off momentarily, and came back in a much more normal tone, 'oi, listen, if I'm talking funny, don't react, all right?'

_Huh?_ 'Why?'

'Something's come up', muttered Hiroki. 'Just bear with me for now. I need to throw a person out saying that I'm expecting you, and since he thinks he's more important than anybody else, he won't move unless I tell him I've got myself a date or something. How long are you going to take to get here now?'

'An hour, I guess?' Nowaki was descending the steps to the train station now, in too much of a hurry to feel properly surprised at the realization that Hiroki apparently liked men. 'Is that all right?'

There was unexpected weariness in the man's, 'Fine. Not like you can come earlier anyway. Are you on the train yet?'

'Almost', Nowaki was about to say, when he heard a silky voice in the background. 'Hiroki, will you get back here already?'

He barely registered Hiroki's irritated growl; the instant he heard the voice calling Hiroki by his first name—a privilege that the man had established as off-limits to him from the first day—he was stung by a jealousy that he had not thought himself capable of.

_So he needs to talk to me as a lover?_

_Two can play at that game._

After a great deal of rustling and air blowing across the speaker from the other end, Nowaki heard the silky voice again. 'Hello?'

'Hello', he said tersely, waiting for his train to arrive. It was due within two minutes. 'Who might I be speaking to?'

'A friend of Hiroki's. Ah, of course I didn't introduce myself. The name is Usami.'

It meant nothing to him. 'Pleased to meet you.'

'I'm surprised Hiroki never told me about you before', said Usami, over a crashing noise that sounded like the man in question trying to retrieve his phone. Nowaki gritted his teeth against the onslaught of a name that he himself was forbidden to use; a strange possessiveness was beginning to seize him.

_A man who thinks he's more important than anybody else to this person…_

He decided he would be even more important than that.

_A first name shows familiarity. A nickname…intimacy._

'Well, Usami-san', he said smoothly, '_Hiro-san_ is the kind of person who likes to keep his affairs to himself.' He snapped his phone shut as the train slid into the station, chest still burning.

It was probably for the best, he thought, watching the pitted darkness of the underground zip past. From the time they'd first seen each other, Nowaki had been at a loss as to how to address the older man, or even to think of him. Any form of honorific attached to his first name had been blown off with vehemence, and while 'Kamijou-san' was the safest bet, it felt curiously cold to the dark-haired boy.

_Hiro-san_…Nowaki smiled lightly at the darkened windows and wondered how 'Usami' might regard this turn of events…and how 'Hiro-san' himself might react to the name.

_Perhaps it sounded a little too intimate?_ Then again, wasn't that what he'd been aiming for? He recalled the anger that had come to him so easily over the use of the man's first name, thought abstractedly of what he'd implied by his derivation, and there was very little surprise mixed with the satisfaction when he realized that thinking of 'Hiro-san' in that capacity was not at all displeasing.

oOo

He was guided to Hiro-san's apartment over the phone once he exited the station; if Usami was still around, the background silence did not betray his presence. He'd employed his new term of address with no discernible reaction from the older man, however, so Nowaki decided that such a contingency was nonetheless possible as he began ascending the stairs to the second floor.

And sure enough, when he rang the bell above a brass nameplate with 'Kamijou' engraved on it—his heart beating only a little faster than it should have—the door swung in to reveal a violet-eyed man with silver hair and a supercilious smile.

Nowaki steeled himself and smiled as best he could. 'Good evening. Are you Usami-san?'

The man managed to nod before he was shoved forwards, barely avoiding a collision with Nowaki, and an irritable brown head poked out from behind the door. 'It's about time', growled Hiro-san. 'Nowaki, come in; Akihiko, _get out_.'

Not pointing out that the order was rendered moot by his current location, Usami Akihiko composed himself and straightened his silver-rimmed glasses. 'You go in, Hiroki. I think I'd like a few words with your new…lover, as you say.' He studied the taller boy with unwavering, if casual interest.

Even though he'd used the same term in his thoughts just a while ago, hearing it spoken by somebody else sent a strange tingle up Nowaki's spine. For somebody to say it, anybody to say it…almost made it true. _Made it permanent._

Hiro-san grumbled his assent before vanishing into his apartment; Usami flashed a pleasant smile. Nowaki was forcibly reminded of Yuichi, and noted his increasing dislike of this man with little surprise. 'Is there something you wished to say to me, Usami-san?' he inquired, his tone polite and eyes wary.

Usami raised a shoulder and let it fall in an elegant shrug. 'I was merely curious about you…for how long have you and Hiroki been…involved?'

Nowaki decided it was best to stick to the truth as closely as possible. 'A week.'

'Really', murmured Usami in a low purr. That sort of voice did not hold pleasant memories for Nowaki, and his fists clenched automatically. _This man makes it very easy for me to be angry._ 'I'm sorry, Usami-san, but if that's all, I must be joining Hiro-san now.' He turned to the still-ajar door, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

The devilishly purple eyes held no joke as they bored into him; it was like being stabbed with an icicle.

'A week or a year', said Usami levelly, 'It doesn't matter for how long you've been with him. If you hurt Hiroki, you have me to answer to.'

It no longer felt like a half-assed lie, as Nowaki fought to keep his eyes on the ones that were threatening to chill him; he intensified his own gaze until the coldness in his own heart began to thaw. Not trusting himself to speak, he offered a nod before shaking his shoulder free.

'I should,' why was his voice so tiny? 'I should be going now—'

He had not felt the door open completely behind him, so he was too startled to react to the arms that were suddenly encircling his body; one hand held loosely over his eyes, partially obscuring his vision, the other lying protectively across his chest.

A low growl sounded from very close to his ear and he shivered with an entirely different kind of cold. It was the rainy tinkle of pleasure that he'd denied he was feeling whenever he heard this voice.

And the voice was saying, 'I'm sorry, but I'll be taking Nowaki_._'

'Hiro-san?' gasped Nowaki; against every better judgment that clamored in his lanky body, he found himself unconsciously relaxing into the embrace. Sham or not, the feel of a possessive pair of arms around him was too comforting to resist. He struggled to remain upright and not lean against the small, warm, and unnervingly strong man pressed up against his back.

Usami was watching the scene with wide eyes that were at once taken aback and amused.

'Akihiko', said Hiro-san, and Nowaki stifled the catch of his breath as the arms around him tightened, 'go.'

And he was suddenly inside the apartment as the door slammed.

'I'm sorry I had to do that', muttered Hiro-san, releasing Nowaki so the dark-haired boy could face him. If he'd been looking up, he would have noticed that they sported identical blushes now. 'You looked like you could use some help, and of course he would completely—so—never mind that!' his voice leveled out with speed as he raised his head. 'So—your tutoring…how much have you learnt? Do you know your syllabus?'

Nowaki shook his head, trying to clear it; a gesture which was evidently misunderstood by Hiro-san. 'Tch', he muttered, leading the way into the living room, which was cozy-looking and crammed with books. 'Sit somewhere, then.'

The lithe-limbed figure crossed the room to retrieve a small, battered textbook, and as his eyes met blue ones, Nowaki was once again pricked harshly by the fatigue that lay dormant in them. It was so exact a replica of his own emotions—of his own longing for rest—that he was almost glad when the russet shuttered into blankness again.

_If I had had to see that for a moment longer…_

Hiro-san ran a hand through his shaggy brown locks. 'We've got a long way to go', he sighed.

…_I would have wanted to erase that weariness every bit as much as my own._

All bewilderment over Usami Akihiko, all eagerness over his studies, all confusion over his own nebulous emotions—all the things Nowaki could have been feeling at the moment vanished as, stunned, he realized that this man whom he barely even knew meant as much to him as his own heart.

oOo

**[A/N] Someone make me a demotivational poster; it should contain the still from the anime where this is shown the right way round, and the caption should say 'One does not simply FLIP the scene where Nowaki takes Hiroki from Akihiko.' Okay that was a joke, please don't do anything of the sort, but I still feel guilty of some serious crime here. O_o All humor aside, how WAS that little mince? ^_^ I'm open to suggestions here cuz like I said, the plot's still somewhat hazy, so if you have any scene that you'd particularly like remixed in this manner don't hesitate to tell me about it)**

**Slouph nice to see you took my advice to heart :D thank you for the favorites and your lovely reviews; I always appreciate the depth of the insights you offer.**

**Hana I think my compulsive slipping into 'Ricchan' might be because I love Ritsu XD And this chapter was late not because I wanted to sit on it, but I actually rewrote the whole thing THRICE in radically different ways so that might have taken a while.)**

**Damons keep those adorable one-liners coming. They mean a lot to me, believe it or not!**

**Storm a BIT of the Egoist Minimum? Just a BIT? Lol. I'm having far too much fun with this fic, so you might notice a lot more of those random scenes sprinkled with the main reversals :D**

**Anon hopefully this makes you even MORE curious? :P Glad to have you on, welcome aboard the S. S. Canon Massacre!)**


	6. Thinking Lies

_Thinking Lies_

**[A/N] I'm in a towering temper and suffering from migraine, which may impact the chapter somewhat; I haven't really been so depressed or angry for three years now, and I'm surprised at myself.**

**But for the record, I can't believe Hana actually made that poster…thank you.**

oOo

In Bunkyou district at two past midnight, Hiroki was not sleeping. There was a sibilant rustle of bedclothes as he pushed his blanket aside with an impatient arm and sat up.

_What's really wrong with me?_

Akihiko had come over earlier that day to ask Hiroki to look over his latest manuscript; one thing had led to another, and what with sleeping in the literature student's bed again the man had refused to budge. Hiroki had a strong feeling he knew why, too. It wouldn't have been the first time Akihiko had used his apartment as a hideout when running late on a deadline.

Neither would it be the first time Hiroki had felt torn. Akihiko barging into his apartment saying that there was nobody else he wanted to see…the incident was as pleasurably hurtful as it was commonplace now. _When he says he doesn't want to see anybody, he still comes to see me._

The sensation of wanting and not wanting was not an alien one, and yet…

Something felt different.

Through his protesting and blustering, Hiroki had never denied to himself that seeing Akihiko was worth the pain of knowing that nothing further would be possible. Earlier tonight, though, he could have sworn that he _really_ wanted the author to leave; for the first time in their long friendship, Hiroki had absolutely no doubt as to what he meant by kicking Akihiko out of his house.

This was not the _get out, but you can come back later_ sort of ejection that the two were so used to…the manner of pretense that the brown-eyed man used had said _get out and stay out._

The problem with admitting this, however, was simple.

…_so I've reached the conclusion that it's because of Nowaki?_

The boy had been a surprisingly bright student; despite his superficial grasp of the topics he was being taught, the two of them had found themselves in deep conversation about several questions that Nowaki had raised. To top it off, he happened to be an excellent cook; a godsend for the literature student, who lived on instant food. Hiroki did not for a second regret his decision to tutor Nowaki, and yet…

_How is it because of Nowaki?_

While he knew that his ethics would never have permitted him to cancel their study session just because of Akihiko, the uncharacteristic vehemence with which he had insisted Akihiko leave had clearly piqued the author's curiosity. On being questioned, Hiroki's truthful explanation that he was tutoring an aspiring college student had been laughed at so hard that in his furious embarrassment—and shame that it was _Akihiko, _of all people—he'd snapped out the first thing that he could think of:

'Fine, you got me. He's my boyfriend; happy?'

It had stung when Akihiko certainly had appeared very happy at this 'news', but again, it was a rather shallow sting. Minutes later, Hiroki's phone had rung and he'd answered a hurried-sounding Nowaki.

_I can't believe it._ The slender man groaned and collapsed onto his bed again, willing himself not to think it, but it was too late because he'd been pent up all month and—

There was no way he was ever going to live down the embarrassment that he had felt on finding that the panting breaths the boy was emitting sounded impossibly stirring. Naturally it was from a different sort of exertion than the thousand ways that had sprung to Hiroki's mind, but there it was—he'd babbled mindlessly about 'beginning to worry', whatever the hell that had meant, and suddenly Nowaki was mixed up in his momentary lie, and the entire thing had become a lot more real.

_It felt real for a moment._

That moment had come when he'd taken it upon himself to 'save' Nowaki from Akihiko. Hiroki had not gone back inside his apartment when asked; too mortified at the possibility of the silver-haired man discovering his pretense, he had stayed hidden behind the door to listen to their conversation and extricate the unfortunate boy if required. The rush of happiness he'd felt on hearing Akihiko declare his protectiveness had, astonishingly, been eclipsed the moment he heard the panicked tremor in Nowaki's voice.

If he was being honest with himself, he'd acted without thinking. It was with no design that he'd intervened in so dramatic a fashion. One second he was considering stepping out, and the next he'd had his arms around Nowaki, heart pressed against thumping heart, and his mouth was saying the most ludicrous things.

'_I'm sorry, but I'll be taking Nowaki. Akihiko—go.'_

It would have been very funny if only it weren't so serious. _I kicked out my childhood friend, the one I've been in love with for ten years, to tutor a kid I saw crying in a park…_put that way, it seemed fine: hadn't it been a matter of the right thing to do?

Of course not.

_I really did want Akihiko to leave._

Admitting that it had been because of Nowaki…_I don't know what would happen if I admitted it._

He decided to find out, and in a moment, had turned on his side and pulled the blankets up to his chin, blinking owlishly at the darkness. Sleep was coming to him at last, and he had a class the next day. There was nothing keeping him awake if he knew now.

_If I admit it, doesn't it mean that Nowaki's somehow become more important than Akihiko?_

oOo

The next morning, before leaving for the university, Hiroki decided to give Nowaki a call.

_What for?_

_To apologize for involving him in something so stupid? To ask when we can have the next study session? _Wasn't that the sort of question Nowaki himself should have been asking? _To hear his voice?_

_Not to hear his voice,_ Hiroki decided firmly, even as he began to dial the number.

As things turned out, he never got the chance to do much on the phone; it was answered by a low, velvet tone, a voice that was certainly not Nowaki's. 'Hello', it hummed. It had a low timbre that Hiroki's ear, tuned as it was to such things, should have found appealing but immediately disliked. 'And who might this be?'

'Never mind', said Hiroki roughly. Nowaki had never told him that his phone was borrowed, and this was the first time such a situation had arisen, so he had no qualms with being impolite. 'Is Kusama Nowaki around?'

'Certainly, he is…but don't I get to know the identity of the person asking for him?' the brown-eyed man could imagine an unpleasant smile on the other end, and fought a shiver of disgust. 'Look, sir', he ground out, 'I assume my phone number's been saved in his contacts; you can find out from there. Right now, I'd appreciate it if I were put through to Nowaki. And fast.'

There was a brief, nauseous silence before the voice spoke again. '_Nowaki,_ is it?' Hiroki felt his insides grow cold. 'Well…Kamijou Hiroki, if that is who you are, he's otherwise engaged at present. Rest assured, he's in good hands.'

The caustic remark on the tip of Hiroki's tongue died along with the connection; the other man had hung up. He stared at the screen with dazedly stunned eyes before slipping it into his pocket.

_What was that?_

He did not know where Nowaki lived, nor did he have any other means of getting into contact with him. Had he been mugged? _No one would mug somebody like him_, he thought briefly before dismissing his sentimentality. No, the person who had spoken to him sounded like he knew Nowaki personally.

And Hiroki had not liked the man's reaction to his usage of Nowaki's first name one bit. He thought of the boy's unexpectedly calm reaction to the events of the previous night, wondered if he was gay too, and realized sickeningly that this man could very easily be involved with Nowaki, for all he knew.

_I really know nothing about him._

It was probably a good thing that he was as preoccupied as he was; otherwise he would have noticed that he'd unconsciously felt a crushing sense of rejection at the thought.

oOo


	7. Masterful Words

_Masterful Words_

**[A/N*sigh* Please excuse my temporary metamorphosis into The Incredible Hulk during my last update. Thank you to all my reviewers who wished me a quick recovery; I'm much better now, so here's a chapter with some action. :D I wanted to make Tsumori a little three-dimensional too…I have a weakness for that sort of thing…enjoy.**

oOo

'_Whatchya got there, Nowaki?'_

_Twelve-year-old Nowaki felt his heart stop as the manga was jerked out of his hands by his adoptive brother, who gave the contents a wide-eyed stare before beginning to laugh. 'Just what the fuck do you think you're reading?'_

'_Nothing', said Nowaki automatically, blushing fire-engine red. 'I found it in mother's desk drawer when I was tidying her room! It isn't mine!' he blurted out._

'_This…?' Yuichi, fifteen years old and attractively gangly, gave an incredulous grin. 'You found a BL manga in mom's drawer, you say?' At the younger boy's petrified nod, he leaned closer, his breath tickling Nowaki's ear. 'You know what I say, Nowaki? I say you bought it yourself.'_

'_No!' squeaked Nowaki, edging away, 'I wouldn't use my money for—'_

_An arm slammed against the wall, preventing his escape; blue eyes stared into livid grey-brown ones as they glowed. Yuichi bent lower and hissed, 'you wouldn't spend money on it, but you're reading it anyway, aren't you?'_

_Nowaki flushed a different red. 'Yes, but—'_

'_Then what the fuck are you saying? You'd steal it?'_

'_No!' the boy gasped. 'I didn't mean that!' his eyes were beginning to tear up; a hand rose to wipe away the moisture and was held in place by a larger one._

_Yuichi's lips curved lopsidedly. 'If this isn't yours…surely you wouldn't mind if I just went and kept it back where it was?'_

_Nowaki nodded, equal parts confused and relieved; when he saw the grey-brown eyes soften, he realized that his answer would certainly have been different had he been lying. It had been a test._

_He resolved never to lie to his brother._

'_Good boy', murmured Yuichi, swooping down and whispering in Nowaki's ear again. 'So I'll be on my way then, _dahling_. And you know what, I think I'll keep this as a present from you. It isn't half bad.'_

_It was Nowaki's first experience with the pleasurable shiver that shook his spine, but not his last._

oOo

Nowaki woke to a small, hard something bouncing off his chest. He had become a light sleeper over the days that Yuichi needed his midnight tea with increasing frequency. Apparently, the man was serious about his insomnia, but that did nothing to reduce the weak reproach in the sea-blue eyes as they quivered open.

Yuichi was standing over him with his usual greasy smile. 'Rise and shine. You're late for breakfast, y'know.'

_And who's responsible?_ Nowaki nodded blearily and turned to his side; the thing that had hit him turned out to be his phone. He reached for it out of reflex and crunched abruptly into wakefulness when he saw that it was displaying the call log.

_7:37 a.m. Received call: Kamijou Hiroki._

The time now was 8:02 a.m.

He sat bolt upright in bed, ignoring rush of blood away from his head as he looked at Tsumori with wide eyes. After a moment of staring that was respectively stunned and smug, Nowaki asked softly, 'You took the call, then?'

'What d'you think?' grinned Yuichi, turning away. 'Breakfast time,_ Nowaki._'

After his sauntering footsteps had died away, the dark-haired boy rested his shaggy, rumpled head in his hands and tried to think.

_He took Hiro-san's call…_

_What did he tell him?_

He dialed Hiro-san's number as fast as he could, with no response; judging from the time, he would likely be in class. Nowaki pecked out a hurried _'Sorry, I was asleep. Will call in a few hours'_ before dragging himself out of bed and over to the bathroom.

Half an hour later, showered and dressed, he was in the kitchen making breakfast. Though his almost-nightly ritual of making tea had kept him up last night, he was rested enough not to nod off but nonetheless too sleepy to prevent himself from zoning out as he waited for the eggs to fry.

'Hey, dahling, it's gonna burn.'

Nowaki jolted back from a combination of the smell of congealed eggs and the sudden proximity of the voice. He mumbled an apology and quickly flipped the eggs over; he now felt tepid, tea-stained breath on the back of his neck, heard the thin mouth curve as it said, 'Y'know, Nowaki…'

As the words trailed off, Nowaki stiffened in surprise. He had expected the smirk in Yuichi's rather than perceived it, but there was no hint of the usual playfulness that leapt through this voice. _When was the last time he sounded serious about anything?_

'What is it?' his own voice came out calmer than expected as he slid the slightly-burnt eggs onto two plates with practiced ease. The blond man had not stood so close to him for any good reason since they were children, and the consciousness of this sickened him—

It was almost as sickening as it was…

A gentle snort of laughter swirled on Nowaki's skin. 'Nothing at all', he heard, and footfalls padded away towards the table.

Eyes shut firmly against the heat of the flame before him, disgusted and shamed and (_no I thought it was gone_) in no small measure pleased. He hoped the sizzling of the frying pan would drown out his groan of frustration.

_What did _Hiro-san_ tell him_, he now wondered.

oOo

'_Ok.'_

Nowaki tried to feel relieved as he saw the text; whatever had happened between Yuichi and Hiro-san, it hadn't been bad enough for the student to never want to speak to him again. Nonetheless, his heart beat faster as he pressed 'dial' and waited for it to connect.

It was picked up on the third ring. 'Kamijou here.'

'Hiro-san!' Nowaki cursed inwardly at the unrestrained enthusiasm in his voice. 'It's Nowaki', he continued, softer this time. 'I was sleeping when you called this morning, so...' he broke off awkwardly, not knowing how to go on.

'I believe somebody else answered on your behalf', said Hiro-san. His voice was odd.

'Ah, yes', said Nowaki hurriedly. 'I'm sorry if he said anything improper; Yuichi's a little—well...' He then realized how it must appear to Hiro-san when another man had possession of his phone in the early hours of the morning. _And I said I was sleeping._

_Oh no._

'Hiro-san, it isn't what'—_What you think it is?_ Would it be presumptuous to assume that Hiro-san had thought _that?_ 'Yuichi is my...' he stopped yet again, at a complete loss for words this time.

_What is Yuichi to me, anyway?_

_Flatmate? Brother? Master?_

'I'm just living with him', he said finally, taking advantage of Hiro-san's continued silence. It was a while before the other man spoke. 'You should have told me.' It sounded like a mutter. 'If I'd known you were taken, I wouldn't have involved you in that shit yesterday—'

'No, it's not that!' Nowaki hissed in shock. 'I—!' _What is Yuichi to me?_ 'Hiro-san, I—I'm not _doing it_ with him!'

An outraged squawk sounded from the other end. 'I wasn't talking about that! That's got nothing to do with me!'

Nowaki felt hurt almost without noticing; it was a while before he remembered that it indeed had nothing to do with Hiro-san. _Then why do I feel the need to explain myself like this?_

'Listen, Nowaki', the gravelly voice was sighing now, 'I don't care whom you're with. Let's get that clear. I only wanted to know when to schedule the next study session.'

'You can schedule it anytime', said Nowaki without thinking, too anxious to somehow quell the burning ache that clawed at his chest as he heard those words. 'Did Yuichi say something to you, Hiro-san?'

'What—'

'_Did he?'_ He was too far gone to feel apologetic for interrupting an elder. He breathed heavily away from the phone as he waited for Hiro-san's answer, hugging himself with his free hand and wondering _why._

'_Yuichi_ just said you're in good hands, that's all', said the man finally. 'I have work to do now. I'm hanging up.'

And he did. Nowaki stared dumbly at the display of his phone until it beeped with a second message.

'_I'm free this Friday from 6 p.m.'_

He let loose a shaky breath that he had been unaware of holding. It was only then that he realized how tight the knot of tension had wound in his stomach; as it loosened, he felt like crying with relief. Substituting this foolish thought for a smile, Nowaki got to his feet from where he had been curled up on the sofa. He had only fifteen minutes left before he headed to his next job, and Yuichi would need something edible in the fridge when he returned.

_Concern or duty?_ He wondered idly, checking the food supplies to see if he could make a sandwich.

_What was he going to tell me this morning?_

It had been a while since he'd felt this relaxed towards his 'master it may have been the unusual exchange they'd had that morning, or that the man apparently had said nothing out of the ordinary to Hiro-san, but Nowaki found it hard to feel resentful at present.

That did not affect his desire to move out by a smidge.

_What is Yuichi to me…what exactly?_

He wondered what the fine-featured face looked like when it saw the food Nowaki left for him every evening before heading out; he had never imagined it before, assuming that the blond simply bolted down whatever he saw without sparing it a second thought. Only in his rare whimsical moments did he allow himself to believe otherwise.

_I think the more important question would be…what am I to Yuichi?_

oOo

**[A/N] …so I guess you can guess the backstory now…Tsumori was the one who awakened Nowaki's feelings…yes, I know I'm going to hell. :D Reviews are answered in chronological order…**

**Anon I'm better now, thank you looks like Tsumori's got more than one trick up his tailored sleeve. And Hiroki's still blindly emotional. Next chapter has direct confrontation…**

**Slouph I live with my laptop day in and out with nothing else to do, if I didn't update so fast it'd be a disgrace :P Thank you for flattering my AU ^_^ I loved the bit about the 'baby relationship'…it's really like they're going out already, isn't it?**

**Cerberus-sensei Thank you for your thoughts on my humble offering to the Egoist world. As always, it's a pleasure to hear your opinion. Though I must admit…the scene with Tsumori had a great deal less friction before you inadvertently put the idea in my head of making it a complete misunderstanding. XD Now I REGRET NOTHING~ I'm actually rather taken with the thought of a world-weary Nowaki, hence my love for TE (even if it's painful as heck to read). It was the desire to write Nowaki in that way that spawned this entire thing. ^_^**

**Hana You won't be hating Tsumori that much in the upcoming chapters…I'm dead against stereotyping my characters, no matter how obnoxious the man seems so far. And you were right about the frown…it's gone now, so no worries :D my challenge now, actually, is to turn Tsumori into a pitiable character while I simultaneously juggle around with the Egoists. If I could make y'all like (and then hate, *sigh Akihiko, lemme try my hand at this…**

**Asdfghjklove Welcome aboard, and thank you for voicing your opinion. :D I'm glad to know what you think of this fic thus far, as admittedly my footing with Egoist fics is still somewhat shaky. No worries about the review; even a single sentence does wonders, so the length of your comment was immensely pleasing.**

**Damons Still hanging around ^_^ Love your reviews, and always will. Keep 'em coming, 'k?**


	8. The Lost Roads

_The Lost Roads_

**[A/N] So this update may be considered a little late…or not…depending on how familiar you are with my update speed; AU is just tiring, like I said. There's subtle canon butchering in this chapter too if you can spot it.**

oOo

Why did he feel so forsaken…why now, when he was so close? _I've lost my way here._ His stormy thoughts raged on and he found no way out of the spring-taut quiver of unrest that shook him.

_Akihiko,_ he told himself distractedly, as his fingers rubbed two pages together. The friction of new paper sparked more stirrings in his mind when he registered how little that particular name pierced him now.

Hiroki appeared to be poring over the book in his hands, but the pencil end that he was chewing gave him away. It was a habit that was growing increasingly rare with the man; one that surfaced when he felt the sort of tension or unease that he could not explain into nothingness.

_Not that I feel that way any less. I've just got better at the explanations._

But there was no way he could justify why he was currently like this…nor, try as he might, could he account for how his mind was wandering. If it had a specific destination, Hiroki could not see it yet, too absorbed as he was in trying to put it back on track to notice where it was headed.

He looked at his watch. _5:37 p.m._ Nowaki had not called yet, and while the student knew that he must be on the train and nearly at his station by now, he had no desire to make the call himself to ask where the boy was.

He wanted to call Nowaki so much.

_I don't want to call him._

Nowaki would probably remember the way to his apartment on his own; he was good with memory. _A little too good._ Hiroki ruefully recalled the practice tests that the large, warm hands had made short work of with no mistakes. Once again, through the emotions that he told himself he was not feeling, he sensed a sharp disgust with whatever circumstances had combined to force Nowaki to give up his studies.

This brought him full circle to how he knew nothing about the boy.

'_I'm just living with him,'_ the sweetly agitated voice had said. _'Hiro-san, I—I'm not doing it with him!'_

It was absurd; of course he had felt no relief on hearing that assurance. If there was sarcasm in this mental declaration, Hiroki did not catch it.

'_Hiro-san…'_

He smiled vaguely. He had not been blind to Nowaki's sudden switch in address from the evening Akihiko had spoken to him. When his initial annoyance had been muzzled thanks to Akihiko's presence, he had found himself alarmingly comfortable with the endearment.

_Endearment?_

_What,_ he wondered, his pencil tracing meaningless Kanji on the white spaces of the book. _What is this…what do I want to do with Nowaki?_

Some part of him wanted to pace around the apartment; some part of him needed to break something.

_I had something in mind when I started…now I feel like I've lost the goal because of how long the road is._

He stayed where he was, trying to think. His eyes borrowed the color of the sun as they rested softly on his windowsill. He was still sitting there when the doorbell rang…and he had not formed one coherent thought.

oOo

Nowaki's face betrayed an emotion that Hiroki was immediately curious about; he gave the boy a long, searching look, which was not returned in equal measure, before stepping aside and letting him in. The two pairs of eyes did not meet. Nowaki toed off his shoes and mumbled his usual polite greeting as he charged past Hiroki without waiting to be asked to sit.

While Hiroki was still coming to terms with the queasy nervousness in his stomach, for a moment he almost believed that…

_Nowaki's nervous too…?_

_What is this?_

Only then did he see what he had truly been expecting. He'd wanted an explanation. Something substantial, something spoken in as much earnest as his student's vehement denial over the phone—_I expected…_

_I expected him to tell me that I had worried for nothing._

He followed Nowaki to the table with uncertain steps; for no good reason he suddenly felt like a trespasser in his own home. The thoughts that he had either lost or suppressed before Nowaki's arrival now pressed upon him in full force: his own presumptuousness, his stupidity, his unspoken, unreasoning anger, and through it all one very disturbing question…

_Am I really doing him a favor by tutoring him?_

_Didn't I want him to say yes…doesn't that make it a favor he's doing me instead?_

'Nowaki', he said suddenly, not waiting to overthink or lose his nerve as he thumbed through the worn pages of the textbook he was holding. He finally felt the eyes on him, but he was looking down and they had still not made eye contact once.

'Yes, Hiro-san?'

He took a shallow breath and the words tumbled out. 'Is this arrangement painful for you?'

_I did it._ He'd actually asked Nowaki what he wanted to know so much, had wanted to know since the day his call had been answered by a man who apparently knew the boy better than he did.

His raised his eyes to Nowaki's at last. The blue was dark and deep and confused in a way that did something odd to Hiroki's tired heart.

'I'm sorry, Hiro-san, I don't understand what you mean.'

'What I mean is…' _Am I actually asking him this?_

_Why am I asking him this?_

_I'm asking him anyway._ He was very conscious of the ache in his chest, but he knew it had to—needed to—be done.

'What I mean is', said Hiroki, voice low but firm, 'am I detracting from your time with _Yuichi_?'

Of all the reactions he had expected, nothing could have prepared him for what happened next; Nowaki just smiled. The older man gazed dumbly on as the dark-haired boy looked back down at his notebook and gave a light chuckle. Hiroki's heart hurt, and he was not even surprised to feel it…in later years, though, he would realize that had Nowaki spoken but a second later it would have broken completely.

'Hiro-san, Yuichi is my brother.'

It took a few seconds for this to sink in; when it did, Hiroki could only gape. Nowaki's smile had not changed.

'What?' The older man choked at last.

The boy's lips seemed to twitch with mirth. 'Well, I suppose I should call him that, at least. His mother adopted me when I was a child.' He shrugged one shoulder and returned to his notes, Hiroki clutching at the textbook in his hands riddled with an explosion of thoughts and not a single word.

_He was adopted?_

He felt little or no relief as this statement. It explained everything and yet nothing. _If he was adopted…that means he's an orphan. Or…_

_Or abandoned?_

'_Kusama's an abandoned child!'_ The black eye, the blond man being led away, the anger…his own futile questions...Nowaki's exhaustion—

'That man you punched in the university that day was Yuichi, then.' It was not a question, but Nowaki nodded absently.

Nothing in Hiroki broke at moment; if anything, it snapped. It was the crisp snapping of restraints as some nameless fire roared into life inside him, pulling life into his mouth and fingers and eyes, clawing at his back as he caught his breath in the midst of what was engulfing him. Even as Nowaki seemed to read on, apparently oblivious to the wide brown eyes that pleaded for him, Hiroki lost what little he knew to this overwhelming—but not so new—feeling that had truly begun to unfurl the day he'd locked eyes with this boy for the first time.

He astonished himself with his next question.

'What's happened to you?' he asked quietly, reaching across the table. He ignored the boiling blush that he knew was currently adorning his face as his fingers pinched the notebook out of Nowaki's loose grasp and set it aside. _I don't know myself anymore, do I?_

_No more than I know Nowaki. _The blaze leapt higher, licking at every part of him.

_I need to know more about Nowaki. I need to know everything._

Nowaki was still looking at him in that distinctly unsettling manner that Hiroki had not seen in those eyes before. He could not place the emotion in them as they wordlessly asked him why he wanted to know. He had no answer, and his own burning, pointed stare conveyed as much. _Right now I know nothing…except that I need to know everything._

_What is this?_ Was this the way out or would he find himself even more hopelessly lost?

He didn't know the answer to that either. Yet.

A sigh rippled through the morose boy; his smile had still not slipped. In fact, Hiroki was sure it broadened when Nowaki murmured, 'He's given me a week's notice to leave the house.'

oOo

**[A/N] Didn't see that coming…I didn't see it myself is what I mean…please review :)**

**Asdfghjklove: I find blushing Nowaki adorable. ^_^ And yes, the whole thing with Tsumori is a misunderstanding ripped off from several Acts at once…you'll find JE Act 2 here as well if you squint.**

**Hana: Awww, hope you feel better soon! Finals can be a bitch huh XD Here's a Nowaki who has more on his mind than just Hiroki…sad as that may be. I can't believe I had him thrown out. (Though it's certainly better for him that way in the long run.) Nowaki's 'I'm not doing it with him' is based on the canon version: 'Hiro-san, I didn't do it with senpai.' Only there's no senpai here, only a (so far) creepy asshole.**

**Damons: Hope you're enjoying the ride :D Love your reviews as always.**

**Anon: Thank you for 'falling in love' XD I wonder if this chapter is a bit too angsty. My mind has not been at rest for a few days now, so I can sense some sort of change in my usual style.**

**Slouph: Dontchya worry, I'm going to turn this Tsumori into a pitiable character if it's the last thing I do! He's not a homophobe, no worries on that count…this is yaoi we're talking about…only old, and otherwise ineligible people are homophobic in yaoitopia! [My horribly constructed word for yaoi+utopia] Glad you liked the smile bit. The baby relationship stumbled a bit here, ne? *gets out video camera***

**Kirakrz: Thank you for the alert; I hope to hear your thoughts on the story some time.**


	9. Stranger in Many Ways

_Stranger in Many Ways_

**[A/N] For some reason this chapter ended up containing enough fluff to keep a pillow factory going for a month…be warned. XD Ah, but there is a great deal of plot advancement too! Never fear! OTL my writing style seems to change with every chapter…bipolar that I've become…**

oOo

Yuichi had been smiling, too. That morning, when he'd oh-so-casually leaned towards Nowaki over the breakfast that the younger boy had prepared, when he opened his mouth to say 'Dahling, I think it's time for you to get a place of your own', he had been smiling. And it was not his usual vinegar-and-honey smile but a small, genuine one.

While Nowaki had not expected it right then and there, he was by no means shocked; it would have come to this eventually. Now that Yuichi seemed to have tired of him on his own, taken the decision himself to throw him out, he was more than prepared…if only emotionally.

Some part of him had demanded why he needed to prepare himself _emotionally_—wasn't _financially_ the bigger issue here?—but he had certainly relied on every inch of his fortitude to remain impassive and keep eating. 'You do? All right.'

'In a week.' Yuichi leaned back with an expression that was equal parts terse and satisfied. 'You're moving out within the week.'

Nowaki's mind screeched to a halt at those words, then picked up twice its usual speed.

_A week—find an apartment in a week—buy furniture—get another job—settle the rent—_

_What is he thinking?_

'Fine', he muttered. The blood that he could feel draining from his face he attributed to his lack of sleep.

He sensed the man's nod, saw it from the corner of his eye. He did not raise his eyes again, not even when the man said softly, 'Good boy, Nowaki.' And even softer—so soft that Nowaki was sure it had not been intended for him—'now I see.'

After leaving the apartment, he had immediately dialed the number he had seen on a flyer at Yamada's store before quitting. He'd taken down the phone number for a construction job after giving notice, just in case he did need an additional source of income sometime—it paid well, and he was not afraid of physical labor, so he figured he would lose nothing by quitting another job and focusing on this one.

He'd signed up for a month to begin with, then gone to his next job and quit it. _Yamada and Reniyo, good riddance._

Then he'd remembered briefly that it was because of them that he had met Hiroki for the second time, and to his horror, a lump had risen in his throat.

_Maybe more time to myself isn't what I need._ When unoccupied, he thought far too much. _Maybe my time could go into studying._

He had a study session with Hiroki that very evening. The thought brought a strange smile to his face; he suddenly wondered, for the first time, why Yuichi had decided to throw him out in the end.

oOo

Now the man he had christened 'Hiro-san' was staring at him. _Shocked, _Nowaki decided…certainly a great deal more so than he himself had been on receiving the news. The blush-prone face was slack in an expression of complete disbelief.

_Then again, he's had two shocks today._

Nowaki's previously violent desire to assuage Hiroki's suspicion was now cooled by his new predicament, but he certainly wanted to soothe the man nonetheless…compared to his manner on the phone, however, he knew he must be acting significantly distant now. There was no helping it; he was still dazed.

He'd said that Yuichi was (at least supposed to be called) his brother, but on the heels of being told to leave, he did not know how accurate his assertion was anymore…or if it had ever been true to begin with. But it had not stopped him from telling Hiroki just that. Surreal as it was…through his undeniable feelings of betrayal and confusion towards Yuichi, there was a large part of him that held on to his tutor's genuine outrage like a lifeline.

Hiro-san was speaking; Nowaki jerked back to attention. The older man's head was bowed, his eyes fenced off by his long eyelashes, but surely there was no blush on his face.

'When did this happen?'

'This morning', said Nowaki, speaking even before the absurd, untethered hope that sprang up in him at Hiroki's words. He was astonished at how suddenly light his chest felt; though he knew nothing about this man, not even why he had offered to tutor him in the first place, this simple question only pulled back to what had touched Nowaki so deeply from the start: he seemed concerned. He _was_ concerned.

His next thoughts were only marginally less amazed…_when he asks me questions like this…I can't help but think that he has a solution._

There had been no point in not nestling into that embrace in front of Usami. In more ways than he had ever suspected, Nowaki had been leaning on Hiroki from the start.

'You…do you have an apartment in mind?'

Nowaki shook his head, tension dissolving faster by the moment. He tried to observe Hiroki's expression as a slender hand rose and raked through the soft-looking brown hair, evidently lost in thoughts of his own now. A faint furrow was working its way between those eyebrows…as he looked on unabashedly, he had a sudden desire to smooth it away. _It's because of me that he's thinking so hard, isn't it?_

The thought was laced with wonder…self-reproach…pride…a lazily powerful happiness.

The other hand, Nowaki saw with a jolt, was still resting on the table, next to the notebook that had been pulled from his grasp. It was stretched languidly across the wood, arm and elbow and all, lightly supporting Hiroki's slender frame as he leaned forward in a posture of graceful awkwardness that the dark-haired boy found incredibly adorable. Nowaki now felt little to no anxiety at all…instead, he was possessed by an insane urge to reach out and touch the hand that was so obviously within his reach.

As though Hiroki had somehow sensed Nowaki's thoughts even while he was immersed in his own, the fingers twitched, tapping out an unset rhythm on the table. The man grumbled, 'I don't know much about housing that you might be able to afford. If you can make it tomorrow, I'll have something planned.'

_A promise?_

Nowaki's eyes widened. _He'll have something planned by tomorrow?_ Though quiet and so obviously shy that it was quicksanded in growls, Hiroki's voice had left no room for doubt. _He didn't say 'maybe'. He said he will. It's…a promise…he's promising to help—_

It was suddenly too much for him; he could fight either the grateful prickling in his eyes, or the temptation that the outstretched hand was offering; resisting both was impossible. He choked back his tears even as his fingers found a smaller, slimmer set and clutched convulsively.

'Thank you', he mumbled, afraid to speak too much and give away the emotion-induced gruffness of his voice. 'Thank you…so much.'

The hand that he was holding on to tensed only for a moment before all but melting into his very surprised grasp. 'No problem', muttered Hiroki, his face as red as Nowaki had ever seen it, his hand throbbing within the larger one. _His heart…_

_Hiro-san's heart is beating so fast._

There were too many things that he wanted to do all at once. Knock the table over and fling himself into the man's arms? Pull him over to his own side? Tilt the lovely face up by the hair and press his lips to those softly parted ones? Taste the sudden sweat that he could feel budding where their skins were meshed together?

_What is this?_

He laced his fingers with the slimmer ones and squeezed briefly, feeling a rush of disappointment when Hiroki coughed and, with unexpected gentleness, disentangled their hands to sit up straight. 'You're here to study, Nowaki', he reminded him softly; the blush had not receded, and his voice now bore no growl. He seemed five years younger than he was…younger, even, than Nowaki himself.

The taller boy nodded with strange reluctance and reached for his notebook, which was lying forgotten off to the side. The hand that had touched Hiroki's was still tingling.

oOo

Hiroki appeared to have guessed a disturbingly great deal about Nowaki's life simply from the admission that he was living with a man who was about to throw him out; tawny-russet eyes shot a sharp look at the steaming kim chi hot pot that the boy brought to the table from the kitchen. Nowaki looked at him inquiringly.

'Nothing', snapped Hiroki. Then after a beat, he added under his breath, 'no wonder you can cook like that, huh.'

Nowaki gave a sheepish smile as he sat opposite his tutor; cooking for two on a daily basis for four years had certainly done a great deal to improve his skills. 'Yeah.'

'Is he the reason you dropped out of school?' Hiroki asked suddenly. He was scowling heavily at his chopsticks; Nowaki had a feeling that lack of schooling somehow tended to offend the man. _He took the news about my education pretty badly the first two times as well…_he was filled with an absurd respect for Hiroki as the long fingers—fingers that had been entwined in his own—twirled a chopstick around absent-mindedly, and the scowl deepened while he waited for a response.

Nowaki mumbled a yes, picking up his own chopsticks. Hiroki merely snorted in acknowledgement. _'Itadaki masu',_ the two said in unison, before beginning to eat.

It was the second time they were having dinner together, and already Nowaki found himself aching for this cozy familiarity on other days as well. If he thought hard enough about it, he could still feel that soft, smooth palm pressed against his own, thumping madly, sweating profusely; offering comfort and solidity and yet…somehow being comforted itself.

The boy had not forgotten how exhausted Hiroki seemed, and the strength he was exhibiting by standing tall, reassuring _another,_ increased Nowaki's admiration of him almost painfully. He was filled with a curiosity that he had never known before…he knew next to nothing about this person, but he now had every intention of finding out a little at a time. It was a pleasant sort of pain that he felt as his eyes danced smoothly over the man's lithe frame, drinking in every intensely beautiful inch.

Until Hiroki raised his head.

Their eyes met briefly; their blushes rivaled each other's. Nowaki was the first to look away, mumbling some utter bilge about spacing out and not realizing and _sorry I was thinking about something_, while Hiroki simply let loose a soft cough and resumed eating, face still magnificently pink.

_His blush is cute,_ Nowaki thought, well aware that he himself was blushing furiously. _He's cute…_it sounded not demeaning but perfect to him.

Later, as he slipped on his shoes in the doorway and said his goodbyes, Hiroki cleared his throat. 'Tomorrow?'

Nowaki neither remembered nor cared if he had an evening shift for anything at all on Saturdays; he just nodded, his throat too tight. _Tomorrow, Hiro-san…?_

A promise.

And just like that, he wanted more. _More._ He wanted all of the man who was standing before him, burning so bright despite his obvious pain—he wanted to see, feel, hear…he wanted to know everything.

But he had no way of knowing that Hiroki had thought the same thing not too long ago.

So he simply reached out and brushed his fingers against the smaller ones, communicating all the gratitude that he had no words for, forcing himself not to simply grab that madly addictive hand and pull the man close. Hiroki looked away and folded his arms; the color that had finally begin to ebb from his cheeks returned.

'Tomorrow, Hiro-san', Nowaki murmured, his heart weak with the weight of its own emotion.

It was Hiroki's turn to nod. The door shut on Nowaki's back a lot more slowly than it should have.

oOo

**[A/N] I went from a cliffhanger to insane shipments of fluff…I need a shrink…or maybe even a drink. *facepalm* That said, I'm kinda digging this 'baby relationship' [credit for that term goes to Slouph] so why not make it cute while I'm at it? ^_^**

**Sakana-senpai: You're back! Yay! Oh no, don't criticize the original story! Its idealism is what makes me adore it in the first place :3 it's just that I'm incapable of writing perfect stuff like that. XD**

**Lovely new reviewer Persephone Crux: Welcome aboard :) good to you know you like it so far! That so makes my day. ^_^**

**Damons: Here's what happens next…**_**SPOILER ALERT**_**! A certain 'friend' of Hiroki's who knows about housing and accommodation…what do you think, hmm? He's a canon character…**

**Asdfghjklove: No magic, just a hereditary writing obsession and too much free time before college begins…you weren't around when Shoudou was going on; I used to update almost everyday. :D Thank you for those compliments!**

**Anon: I'm way better now, thanks for asking :) It's sweet how you keep thanking me for 'sharing'…I should be the one thanking you for your wonderful reviews…:D Thank you!**

**Hana: Good luck for your finals *virtual thumbs up* and is it just me…or do a lot of people seem to be preferring this Nowaki? Noooo! I like him better in canon :O [Then why do I write him this way…OTL…maybe it's just because he's so huggable like this…]**

**Kirakrz: Yay, you reviewed! Thank you! Yes, this Nowaki is a little shy, but with lemons you're in for a surprise XD**

**WishIwereanime: I wish so too, *sigh* :P Thank you for the alert and the Daylit Storm review. I hope to hear from you soon out here too. :)**

**But seriously? I prefer canon Nowaki because he's so bouncy in his happiness :P I don't mean to show him as any angstier than he actually is; this is just my attempt at doing his sadness some justice too, because it's usually so downplayed…he's not so different from the regular Nowaki, it's only the difference of his situation that's changed him. Please review!**


	10. He Is

_He Is_

**[A/N] So many reviews! I'm drowning in them (and the resulting happiness)! Having said that I regret to tell y'all that things certainly ain't gonna go so smooth from here. *wonders why she gets a Southern drawl in text when feeling playful* Shoulda told you to enjoy the fluff while it lasted. Now we're just getting ansgtier.**

**Oh, and brace yerselves fer an all-out canon bloodbath. :D**

oOo

_He's an idiot._

_A blundering kid._

Hiroki was now back at his table, unsure of whom to call with the phone he was staring at, wondering why he even wanted to call anyone at all.

Nowaki really was an abandoned child; Nowaki was a brilliant student; Nowaki had been thrown out his apartment by his adoptive brother; Nowaki had held his hand.

_Nowaki held my hand._

In spite of himself, Hiroki felt a smile stretch across his face. _It's not like he's the only one who's ever done that._ Not when Usami Akihiko had already tried to keep him warm in a similar manner one winter's evening…and failed miserably.

_Akihiko's hands are so cold._ Nowaki's were the warmest Hiroki had ever felt. He raised his own hand, the one that had been so tenderly grasped, to his face and studied it meditatively; every crease that lined his palm, every papercut, every knuckle still tingling with the heat of another.

With his hands Hiroki had turned countless pages of countless books. He had eaten tens of thousands of meals that he remembered and did not remember. He had run the long fingers through his hair in infinite moments of frustration…and a different form of that frustration had caused the same hands to know the most intimate places of his own body.

His hands carried his life. And Nowaki had touched them.

And unlike Usami Akihiko, he had not chilled Hiroki's skin to the bone in doing so.

_He's the one I want to call_, Hiroki thought suddenly. He was craving Nowaki's voice. An unseen blush crept higher on his face as he realized that his student's _voice_ was certainly not the only thing that he was craving. He shook his head violently at nothing in particular. _I'm not calling him._ _Not when I'm going to see him tomorrow._ Just thinking about it made his heart soar absurdly.

'_Tomorrow, Hiro-san.'_

Nowaki had not needed to say _forever_ or _all my life._ The simple promise that he would be back at least one more time was enough. Even if it made all of Hiroki burn with a need that he was both thrilled and mortified to feel—even if the brown-eyed man would spend the next twenty-odd hours with just one thing on his mind—it was enough. _As long as I see him again._

'Idiot', he mumbled. _I'm the idiot here._

He pushed his phone away with a determined air before rising to get his laptop. If he was going to see Nowaki so soon again he would damn well make it worth the boy's while. _I have apartments to look up now._

Somehow, though, he had a feeling that just their meeting would make it worth Nowaki's while anyway. The thought caused his not-quite-gone blush to intensify.

_Idiot. He's an idiot too._ An idiot for whom Hiroki's heart was beating so fast that he had to remind himself to breathe. He made a noise of impatience and pretended that it was aimed at the laptop, which was admittedly taking its own time to start up.

Hiroki had a sneaking suspicion that his phone call that day had something to do with this; it made him feel guilty and ridiculously relieved at the thought that he had unwittingly set Nowaki free, too. _Now if only he had a place to live._

_I need to find him some place he can call home._ This resolve twinged somewhat, fueled by his unconscious assumption that Nowaki's home was not currently where he, Hiroki, was.

_I want to see him soon._

_So what is this in the end?_ Hiroki smiled, small and knowing this time. _Why do I even bother to ask myself that question now?_

oOo

The doorbell rang an entire half hour early; Hiroki looked up from his customary trying-to-read posture, a book in his hands and a pencil in the corner of his mouth. Despite the pleasant pounding of his heart, something in the unscheduled change seemed to bode ill.

_It might not be Nowaki._ He nodded firmly to himself and rose to open the door, not bearing to take a shortcut by using the peephole, though he would have regretted his decision had it been anybody else.

For reasons unknown to himself, he found himself praying that it wasn't Nowaki as he turned the doorknob. As soon as the person at his doorstep came into view, Hiroki gasped.

It was most certainly Nowaki. He was disheveled and his clothes were decidedly dirty, a glaring contrast with his usual tidy appearance; he was also panting like he'd run the entire way from the train station, his face flushed with exertion, and his eyes were flaming red.

This last detail spurred Hiroki into action.

'Nowaki?' he asked sharply, stepping aside to let him in. 'What's wrong?'

The boy shook his head listlessly as he followed Hiroki into the apartment, after kicking off his shoes in the most ungainly manner that the older man had ever seen him employ. His insides twisted with the most painful curiosity; Nowaki had never seemed so utterly shaken.

'Nowaki', Hiroki said urgently, stepping closer to him. Blue eyes rose to meet his and he was pierced by how lost they were.

'What happened to you?' It was the second time in two days he had asked his student the same question, but after the events of the previous evening, with all of his unspoken, unthought expectations and worries, this was infinitely more probing than it had been the first time.

Nowaki did not smile. After a moment of what appeared to be deep contemplation of no discernible object, he murmured, 'Hiro-san…'

'Yes?' said Hiroki immediately; his hand rose of its own accord, seeking to somehow reassure Nowaki with the touch that had proven so effective in the past, and he felt his eyes widen when the boy shied away from the movement with a wordless exclamation of prohibition.

'I…I need a shower!' Nowaki gasped.

_At least this is some form of progress, _Hiroki told himself. 'Okay', he replied patiently. 'You can have a shower. When you're done, will you tell me what happened?'

Nowaki seemed to consider, then nodded. 'But I need a shower first…I'm filthy…' he mumbled; his eyes dropped to the ground. His tutor hesitated briefly before extending his hand again, but it was stopped in mid-motion by a larger one encircling his wrist. Hiroki looked up to find brilliant, hollow blue gazing at him with such softness as to make his own eyes water from the strength of the emotion they induced in him.

'Only my hands, Hiro-san', Nowaki whispered. 'They're the only part of me that's clean right now.' He bowed his head so his eyes were blocked from view and Hiroki was left to gaze dumbly at his thick, rumpled hair.

It was a while before the older man's wrist was released to let fingers meet fingers instead, if only for a moment, before their contact was broken altogether and Nowaki turned away. Hiroki knew that by logic he was perfect liberty to ask the boy any number of questions—and he certainly had several of those—but not only would it do no good at present, he was somehow absolutely certain that what he needed was to let him be. At least until he got his shower.

So he simply said to Nowaki's broad, slumped back, 'The bathroom's the first door as you go in.'

_But he'll need a change of clothes too…his jeans don't look too dirty._ 'Leave the door unlocked, so I can put your shirt in the washing machine after you take them off', he added; it was a mark of how serious the situation was that nothing perverted came to either man's mind. The dark head simply bobbed in agreement before making its way over to the door in question and disappearing behind it.

Hiroki let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and slumped to the floor.

_What the hell was that?_

He could name half a dozen horrible things off the top of his head, but did not care to inspect what his imagination was offering him…speculating would do no good when the truth was just a few minutes away. He tried his hardest not to think as he gathered up enough feeling in his legs to enter the bathroom and retrieve Nowaki's grimy shirt. _He's just a sheet of wood away, and he's stark naked. _It meant nothing to him. Not in the face of his need to know what was wrong.

Once the offending garment was in the washing machine, Hiroki forced himself to sit at the table and not curled up near the shower door. He had every intention of buttonholing the boy the moment he exited the shower and demanding answers, even if he knew that his concern, more than his pride, would not permit him to do so anyway.

He wallowed in his questions and tried not to let answers seep in.

But five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen and Nowaki had not emerged. Hiroki frowned at the bathroom door. On any given day he would have waited for his student to come out. As of now he had no patience left.

At least, that was what he told himself. _It's only because I'm running out of patience now._ He was up and walking towards the door. _Not because I think he may have tried to kill himself—or passed out—or drowned somehow—_

_Nothing's going to happen. Nothing's going to happen._

The shower door slid open. Through the steam and the rain of the showerhead, he could see Nowaki slumped against the wall, chest heaving softly, evidently unconscious…and completely naked.

_Naked,_ his mind repeated again, before it blanked and Hiroki was on his knees in the shower, clothes and all, his hands on the now shiny clean shoulders and shaking frantically. 'Nowaki!' he hissed. 'Nowaki, get up!'

Nowaki twitched a little, but gave no other response. The older man swore under his breath and then aloud. 'Nowaki!' he yelled again, before lunging for the taps to turn off the shower so he could see straight. The firm, lightly muscled chest was rising and falling in a steady pattern—perhaps harder than it should have been, but otherwise normal. His pulse appeared regular too, so there was only one, enormously relieving explanation: Nowaki was fast asleep.

It was the lightest he had ever felt after such panic.

'Thank god', Hiroki mumbled dazedly, even his impatience temporarily quelled by his gladness. He fought the urge to clutch the tall boy to his chest; the only reason he could stop himself was his mind returning to remind him, like a parrot that knew only one word, of how _naked_ Nowaki was. His eyes dipped south automatically and widened at the sight of the boy's member, formidable even when limp.

Indeed, the entirety of the long-limbed body before him was a sight to see, with lean, powerful muscles and baby-smooth skin and the incredibly handsome face that Hiroki had never quite been blind to. He allowed himself a few more seconds of admiration before leaning forward and slipping his arms under Nowaki's shoulders, trying not to slip on the wet floor as he got up, pulling the heavy body along with him.

oOo

_Just how heavy is he?_ He wondered irritably, scowling at the sleeping face. He had somehow managed to pull and push Nowaki's long legs back into his jeans to give him some form of decency while his shirt dried, but no reserves of strength had proved sufficient to lug him onto the futon. He now lay on the floor, snuffling softly in his sleep. His brow was furrowed.

Hiroki felt his gaze soften against his will.

_Nowaki…please wake up soon._ He did not want to rouse the boy himself; if he had fallen asleep in the shower like that he evidently needed the rest. However, watching Nowaki sleep, so relaxed and vulnerable, rendered Hiroki completely incapable of doing anything else.

_I just saw him naked in the shower. This is supposed to be a bit tamer than that._

On the contrary…Hiroki felt a sharp intimacy with the half-dressed, slumbering Nowaki that he had not felt with a hundred naked men. The desire to know what had happened to Nowaki and bloody well fix it multiplied exponentially as he slid to his knees beside the lanky body.

'…chi…'

The shaggy brown head jerked to attention. Nowaki was mumbling something under his breath; the furrow between his eyebrows deepened, and he seemed to turn away a little.

'Yuichi…'

Hiroki felt his heart grow cold.

_Yuichi._

_No._ 'No', he whispered shakily. Had Yuichi done something to Nowaki or was the boy dreaming of him that way—

_No._

'No', he said again, more firmly this time.

_No. Not when I'm so close. Not when Nowaki's finally free. Not when—_

_Not when I'm in love with him—_

_Not now. Not ever._

'I won't accept it', Hiroki muttered furiously; he didn't stop to think. He couldn't. _Not when I love him. Not when he is everything I want…_

He was straddling Nowaki now, bending over him, supported by his elbows and knees, their faces closer than they had ever been.

_That I never even knew I needed…_

_I don't have him yet, but I'm not letting him go._

It was a prayer, a command, a wish, everything; Hiroki lowered his head and let his lips meet Nowaki's.

oOo

**[A/N] …and the best part is that I'm going to be off the map for six days straight, so no lightning update for you people now. Feel free to wonder. XD I'll be back in business by the ninth.**

**I love you, all my reviewers; no usual-style replies for this chapter because I'm literally finishing this with all my packing left and my grandparents are going berserk (suffice to say that they hid the modem and I went on a treasure hunt to find it), but just know that I cherish every single comment that I receive and that your thoughts are invaluable. Feedback is what keeps me going, and the response I get is simply wonderful.**

**Cerberus-sensei, Sakana-senpai, Slouph, Damons, Hana, AZ, Anon, Asdfghjklove - Thank you for the reviews. :D I look forward to them all.**

**Until the ninth/tenth, then! Hang in there now. *evil grin-turned innocent grin***


	11. Struggle

_Struggle_

**[A/N] Back! This is a little later than I said it would be, because my modem broke down D: and no repair shop is open on Sunday blah blah, but it may be worth the wait \0/ (borrowing Slouph's emoticon because I finally figured out what it means!) Thank you for your reviews, all! Replies at the bottom. :)**

**So here's the backstory of UtterlyShaken!Nowaki…FROM TSUMORI'S POV. BUAHAHAHA. It begins on Friday night, a whole day before Nowaki ends up on Hiroki's doorstep asking for a shower. Oh, and I have an account on now where you can find my lemons!**

**By the way, new Egoist fic up called 'Stay Here Tonight', full to bursting with fluffy goodness since y'all liked chapter 9 so much. Feel free to dip into its reserves of happiness whenever FTR gets too angsty, k?**

oOo

_Yuichi_

Nowaki had been in absurdly high spirits on returning to the apartment; he'd tried to hide it, tried to flatten the spring in his step as he locked the front door and slipped out of his shoes. It hadn't fooled Tsumori Yuichi.

And he didn't like it one bit.

He'd deduced, correctly, that the boy who was sharing his living space (he had taken to that form of reference of late as his feelings towards Nowaki grew increasingly muddled) had come away from a visit to 'Kamijou Hiroki'. The blue eyes had not so much as glanced at Yuichi on entering; the rapidly fought-down smile had nonetheless shone out with an intensity that the older man had not seen in there before.

Yuichi was long past denying that it made him jealous. _Who is this man who makes him so…_

_Happy?_

Happiness was at the root of it all, he supposed, lying in bed an hour later. Happiness was why he'd kept Nowaki by his side this whole time—beaten him down to little more than a servant to ensure that the boy would not leave—taunted him, tortured him, and yet…through it all, wanted him.

_Nowaki makes me happy…_

_Made me happy?_

What he'd thought to be a comfortably turbulent arrangement in their relationship—with Nowaki resisting, resenting, but staying on nonetheless—had been unmistakably thrown following their scuffle at the university. For all his brusqueness and occasional snappiness, the boy had never seemed as genuinely angry as he'd been during that one punch, never seemed so exhausted as he had when returning to the apartment later.

It had begun then…and so had Yuichi's insomnia. Begun then, but multiplied a hundredfold by the deep, growly voice that had asked for 'Nowaki' at eight in the morning.

_Funny how he never wondered why I was in his room in the first place._

Why _had_ he been there, really? To watch Nowaki as he slept? To wake him for breakfast? Or…to check his phone in the hopes of finding just such a caller? Either way, he'd wanted an answer for his flatmate's sudden exit the previous evening. And he had found it.

Not long after, he had been hit by the realization that he most certainly did not make _Nowaki_ happy.

_So I decided to…what? Test his feelings?_

What feelings? What feelings when Yuichi himself had been unsure of how he felt for years now? _There never were any 'feelings'…_and he'd learned that the hard way when Nowaki shrugged and said yes, all right, he would move out within the week. A week which was going to be every bit as painful as the blow that the boy's words had delivered.

'_Now I see.'_ Now he saw… _that there's been nothing to see._

Yuichi put a hand on the wall that separated his room from Nowaki's, somehow hoping to feel a second heat beating against his palm, wishing that he knew what the owner of that bruised heart was thinking. _Feeling._

The cold shadowy gray of the wall was nothing like Nowaki's warmth, the familiar yet distant warmth that he'd come to know so well.

_Just who is Kamijou Hiroki?_ Was he as warm as Nowaki…or as cold as the wall…or, as Yuichi had thought on the phone…_burning hot like a flame…?_ What was that man to the boy who had previously, in some twisted way, been Yuichi's and Yuichi's alone?

He shook his head against the pillow, idly noting the grate of his ash-blond hair against the fabric. It roused him from the stupor that he'd willed himself into; that trance-like state was the closest he got to sleep without tea.

_And I'm not waking him tonight…I've been thinking of stupid things all along._

_He never was mine._ Not as children, not now when they were further apart than ever.

_Brother? Friend? Attendant?_

_Nowaki. _He was none of those things. He was only Kusama Nowaki, sweet and obliging and so weary…_and now happy. _Yuichi let out a soft noise of frustration as he was revisited by the thought that he had no place in that happiness.

_But could I? _If he'd acted on his half-formed feelings from the beginning, crystallized them into something real and tangible instead of waiting for them to complete themselves, would things have been different?

Would he even know the answer to that now?

oOo

It was all a bit hazy in his head later, just how he ended up in the position he was now in; how he found himself on top of Nowaki at six in the morning—because he had not slept all night—with his legs on either side of the lean hips and his forearms similarly framing the dark head, the blanket soft and rough against his elbows and Nowaki's lips just soft against his own.

_Have these been my feelings?_

He still did not know, but the faint stirring of the body beneath him did nothing to stop him from pressing deeper, his tongue invading the boy's half-sleeping, half-waking mouth, swirling around until Nowaki gave an almighty heave and Yuichi was jerked backward to find the boy's eyes finally making contact—wide and stunned and furious.

'What are you doing?' hissed the voice, as the powerful arms bent and Nowaki was now propped up on his elbows, and now sitting upright, gasping in outraged surprise. But Yuichi had not needed the speed of those actions, or the hot revulsion in the question, to know that he had been right…_there has been nothing as far as he is concerned._ Those eyes had already told him that.

And yet he merely snorted before lunging forward, pinning Nowaki to the bed again. Firmer this time and more decisive.

_But there's certainly been a lot for me._

'You', he snarled briefly in between kisses. 'You're not leaving.'

And just like that, the struggling had stopped; Nowaki lay, unresponsive but unresisting, beneath a Yuichi who was too fogged to register the sudden relaxation. Even as he gripped the boy's arms and held them in place, a knee snaked between slightly splayed legs to rub against blankets and boxers and an organ that was—

_What?_

Through the maze of some heat that was now undeniably swelling into lust, gears turned in the blond head and he realized that Nowaki was doing nothing to stop what was going on.

_Does that mean he's happy with this?_

The body he was straddling was warm, the heart he could feel against his hands as they pulled the blanket down was racing. _Is he happy?_

He could not bear to meet the brilliant blue eyes now to know for sure; he ducked and let his teeth slide against the skin of Nowaki's neck. If he had raised his head instead, he would have seen that those eyes were wet.

'You're not leaving, all right?' he mumbled frantically, pulling the blanket free and tossing it to the side unseeingly. 'You'll stay right here with me—'

_Because you're happy too._

He did not say that, preferring to let his statement hang loose as he made to grab hold of a large, long-fingered hand. On doing so he was met with the first real resistance of the morning; Nowaki jerked frantically and both hands flew out of his reach, burying themselves between the small of the boy's back and the mattress.

'Not my hands!'

Yuichi was surprised now, yes—but he still did not look up at the panicking face that was now so deliriously aroused and ashamed. He chose to nod instead as he closed his eyes and let his own hand wander south.

_So this is what I've felt?_

_Maybe now I'll know._ If he was allowed to slide his fingers under the hem of Nowaki's boxers and confirm the hardness that he'd discovered with his knee, he'd know for sure that this was what should have happened all along.

But he never did find out; a pair of long, strong legs thrashed violently into the air as his motions became more apparent to his victim and Yuichi found himself pushed backward again, this time roughly enough to risk falling off the edge of the narrow futon. As he heaved bewilderedly, trying to get his bearings, Nowaki scrambled out of the bed to regard the man with wide eyes that Yuichi still did not know were wet.

'What—the _fuck_—do you think you're doing?' the bemused boy snarled.

The profanity, more than anything else, caused Yuichi to look up at last and register what he'd refused to see. His heart twisted unpleasantly to find no pleasure in Nowaki's face, and venom in the unmistakably watery blue.

If venom was that pained, rather than painful.

'God', muttered Yuichi, dropping his gaze again, flailing to make some sense of what had just happened. He brought a hand to his heating face and breathed heavily through his nose; his mind was still processing too many things. _Too many feelings._ 'So kissing you is apparently okay', he said without thinking, 'but when I stick my hand somewhere else—?'

'And just who said any of that was okay—'

'YOU DID!' Yuichi roared. 'You did nothing to stop me, did you!' He was on his feet too now, advancing towards Nowaki with overwhelming anger. 'Just how am I supposed to believe that it wasn't okay when you've still got _that_ poking the front of your boxers!' A finger jabbed the air, pointing accusingly at the boy's crotch, which was still blatantly tented.

There was a long, tightly stretched silence that finally broke with one low hiss. 'You're a sick bastard, Tsumori.'

_Oh, I'm 'Tsumori' now, am I?_

Nowaki turned away and seemed to take some deep breaths of his own before adding, 'and I'm leaving. You're not stopping me.'

_Crash._

Yuichi found himself atop Nowaki for the third time that morning, sitting on his back as the boy fought to breathe with his face pressed against the floor, utterly winded; his nose didn't seem to be broken, at least not yet, but the older man wouldn't have bet on it.

'Who's leaving, dahling?' he asked pleasantly, ignoring the part of himself that was clamoring for order. He snaked a hand through the sweat-damp hair beneath him and pulled the head up, preparing to crash it back down onto the floor if he was given a wrong answer.

There was no answer, only a question.

'What happened to you, Yuichi?' muttered Nowaki, his voice softer than it had been for days.

_I think the problem here is what happened to you. Not me._

But this immediate self-defense did not hold out against the thought that now crashed through him. He'd outright violated a sleeping Nowaki to prove a point to himself about his feelings. He'd been cursed at by a boy who never cursed—snapped maybe, but _never cursed_—and now…he was pinning him to the floor…for what?

'I don't know', he mumbled, his grip slackening. _What's happened to me?_

_What's happened to you?_

'What's happened to _you,_ Nowaki?' he asked quietly, feeling his back slump even as he stayed on top of the boy's winded body.

_Thud._

And their positions were reversed. The back of Yuichi's head hit the floor with an unpleasant _thunk_ and little lights popped in his vision; disoriented, by the time he knew what was going on, Nowaki was straddling his chest and glaring down at him with livid eyes that painted fresh tear tracks down his face. His expression was contorted with some curious pain, but grim and resolute.

'What's happened to _me?_' he growled. 'I'm happy, that's what. And you—you're not getting in my way, not now, not ever.'

It was a gentle blow after the events of the morning to fully register what Nowaki had said and realize that _in my way_ was worse than _don't matter to me._

_So much for being a part of that happiness._ Yuichi noted, with a languid surge of misery, how similar this position was to the first one on the bed. Only Nowaki's hands were far away, pressed onto the unreciprocating cold of the floor. He hadn't touched Yuichi once with his hands.

'Kamijou did something to your hands, didn't he?' the words sailed out of his mouth for lack of better things to say. 'That's why you're—'

An elbow drove into his temple and he saw stars again. 'What the weeping, creeping fuck!' he hissed. 'What's gotten into you!'

As Nowaki swam back into his vision, he noticed that the tear tracks were drying.

'I'd kill you.' The voice was deliberate. 'I'd kill you. But I don't want to get my hands dirty.'

The blood drained from Yuichi's face. 'Okay, I get it', he whispered, horrified. 'Stay safe, dahling.'

Only after Nowaki had pushed himself up and stumbled off to who knew where did the man, still lying prone on the ground, realize how much both of them had been shaking.

oOo

**[A/N] Tsumori's a spoilt brat and a sheltered person in general, not given to violence, which is why he didn't retaliate even after the black eye except to threaten Nowaki with being thrown out. I hope that explains why he's a little unsure and frightened of himself when he snaps.…and now I realize that I'm probably going to be lynched for leaving that kiss in chapter 10 hanging. :O Never fear, the next chapter goes back to normal! You **_**did**_** wanna know what happened to Nowaki first, after all!**

**Okay, review replies. First things first, when I looked over my chapter 10 a few hours after posting it (by which time I was far away from any source of internet) I REALIZED THAT I'D SOMEHOW FORGOTTEN ANON IN MY LIST OF REVIEWERS. WTF. I'm ridiculously touched that you reviewed anyway, because I'd been headwalling about it for six days straight. I'm so fucking sorry that I can't even express it.**

**Sakana-senpai: so regular with reviewing ^_^ I love your devotion to this fic. Gambarimasu! :)**

**Asdfghjklove: It's actually Act 1 where Hiroki falls asleep and Nowaki kisses him. Sigh, I squirmed like shit when writing about him passed out in the shower, but there was no other way within the storyline that I could make him unconscious during the kiss. OTL**

**Ella: Drawing out creepers is a hobby of mine. :D Is it weird that I lawled like a maniac while reading your review? Not to worry, I loved every word of it, so the longer your reviews the better! Oh, and the smallness of Hiroki's hands (which was supposed to be only relative) was my bad and I've already been slammed for it once, hehe, so it's fixed now. I kinda had that coming -_-**

**AZ: Crap, I have a fuckton of your chapters to review. *rushes off* Thank you for reviewing so religiously; now I just feel guilty D:**

**Hana: Yay, got internet? Lol. Yay for me too, I'd have missed you. Hope you can find the time to keep reading, and enjoy your holidays :)**

**Damons: Still hanging around! Hooray! Shinoda will be popping up sometime soon, I promise! OTL can't believe I put in a spoiler without implementing it…**

**Please review, despite this freakishly long AN :O I'm trying to cut down, I swear, but as you can tell from my update speed I'm a bit too wordy is all.**


	12. Innocent

_Innocent_

**[A/N] So this is a bit late. I guess. Gomen; shit's going crazy in real life and I've got a fever today so I shouldn't be here at all, but I just had to finish this off ~_~ Plus I got caught up with the fluffy bunny that is SHT and wasn't in the mood for flangst. Apologies again…enjoy the hurt/comfort. And please excuse any random crappiness you might come across…around half of this was written today in a bit of a hurry so yeah *sweat***

oOo

'_You're not leaving, all right?'_

'_Stay safe, dahling.'_

Nowaki was stirred, for the second time that day, by the unfamiliar sensation of someone kissing his unconscious mouth. As his mind swam hazily back up from the fatigued slumber that he'd vainly tried to fight off in Hiroki's shower, all he could feel was the rough tenderness behind the kiss, the desperation…the complete and total lack of permission.

_Not this again._

His eyes flew open, and before he really saw the face of his violator his hands were flying forward, ramming into the chest that was so close to his own; the body tumbled backwards with a cry of surprise—in a voice that was definitely not Yuichi's.

Hiroki was sprawled on the floor before him, eyes wide, hair falling about his shock-limp face.

'Hiro-san!' Nowaki gasped. He scrambled onto his hands and knees and began making his way over to where the man was still motionless except for the heaving of his chest; that push seemed to have knocked the breath out of him. 'Hiro-san, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that—my body just reacted on its own—'

_Hiro-san just kissed me._

'Was it Yuichi?' asked Hiroki shortly, cutting in. He had not made to get up from the floor, looking up at Nowaki with unmistakable hurt in his gaze.

Nowaki twitched. 'What?'

It was a while before Hiroki spoke again; he turned to his side and raised a trembling forearm to his face so his eyes were shielded. 'You were saying his name in your sleep.'

It felt like he was the one who'd been pushed to the floor—Nowaki's lungs fought for air as he felt the blood recede from his face. He collapsed into a sitting position and some corner of his mind registered that he'd been dressed in his sleep.

'That was nothing', he mumbled at last, but his voice wavered out of control and he knew he would be seen through. 'I just—Yuichi just—he…'

_Why am I even trying to justify what he did?_

_When I don't know the reason myself?_

'He tried to stop me from moving out.' The words stumbled from his lips, awkward in the impatient silence. 'That's all.' _But that's not all. He kissed me._

_So did Hiro-san._

'I'm sorry', he repeated, looking away even as his hands moved Hiroki's arm out of the way so the man could look at him. 'I—you know I didn't mean to—I thought you were Yuichi—'

'You what?'

He realized what he'd just admitted and shivered before shaking his head violently in denial of he knew not what.

Hiroki's voice was low and dangerous. 'That's what he did to stop you from moving out?'

'Well, it's not like it worked', Nowaki muttered, refusing to look up. He chose to let the lull drag on instead; he was tired all over again, and wondered if even his Hiro-san—_my Hiro-san, who just kissed me_—would be able to alleviate the sudden heaviness that had descended on him.

A rustle of cloth on wood told him that Hiroki had finally pushed himself upright. Two slender hands grasped Nowaki's shoulders and straightened them; his head rose of his own accord and was greeted with a pair of surprisingly calm eyes that nonetheless burned into a veritable firestorm.

'And if you'd known it was me?'

A now wide-eyed Nowaki let himself stare at Hiroki, the bare forearms dappled in the evening sun like golden rain, the ember-livid blush poorly obscured by hair that was still mussed from his fall. The steady voice, despite the embarrassment that he knew Hiroki must be feeling. The complete seriousness of the question.

_Even if I'd wanted to, do you think I could have pushed you away?_

'If I'd known it was you?' he asked quietly. 'Isn't it obvious?'

Hiroki's blush intensified. 'I guess.'

The hands that had been bracing Nowaki's shoulders fell away as the boy slumped in relief; he threw his arms around his tutor in a moment of blind neediness, and was terribly grateful for the speed with which this gesture was returned. The second heartbeat pulsed with life through the top of his head, pumping more strength into him than he had felt all day.

They sat like that for a few seconds—far too little—then Hiroki spoke up softly. 'Nowaki.' The voice carried no growl. 'You said you'd tell me what happened.'

'I'll tell you', he whispered, holding on with convulsive tightness lest he get swept into darker thoughts again. 'I'll tell you everything, like I promised. But first…'

He smiled faintly against the chest before raising his head; deciding that he would lose his nerve if he thought too much about it, he simply shut his eyes and let the sienna gaze contemplate his upturned face for a second. Then a thumb breezed lazily over his lips, lingering on the swell of the lower one that protruded ever-so-slightly in innocent invitation.

But he was not kissed again. His disappointment must have been evident when he opened his eyes, because Hiroki was looking somewhat abashed if adamant.

'Not until we get this over with', the man said steadily. Nowaki was pained only for one more brief moment as he realized that he himself had no intention of letting Yuichi hang over what he had so fiercely declared to be _happiness._

_I said I wouldn't let Yuichi get in my way,_ he reminded himself, as he lowered his head back into the embrace and began to talk.

It was easier in some parts and very, very difficult in others. He found himself stammering over every kiss, every touch of his adoptive brother's body; even being tackled to the floor froze multiple times on his lips before finally thawing into articulation. How he had just lain there and done nothing, stunned, but also furiously glad.

'_You're not leaving.'_

How he had felt his face heat and eyes sting at those words, how Yuichi had gradually worked his way lower, encouraged by the lack of resistance. When Nowaki added with a wry chuckle that he'd kept his hands beyond reach the whole time, however, he felt the heartbeat that he was pressed up against pick up somewhat.

How he'd threatened to kill Yuichi if it weren't for him wanting to keep his hands clean. How he'd fled the house, working each of his day jobs overtime, forgetting breakfast, forgetting lunch, throwing himself completely into his new construction job, welcoming the filth because it was nothing compared to how he was feeling from within. How his exhaustion had eventually won out under the warmth of the shower. How he'd woken in the midst of Hiroki's kiss…

'…so…I'm sorry. I thought it was Yuichi', he said finally. At some point his hands had fisted handfuls of Hiroki's shirt, which he now gripped so tightly that he doubted he would be able to pry his hands open. 'I'm sorry.'

That wasn't the only reason he was apologizing. 'I'm sorry', he mumbled again, at which a gentle finger tapped a question at his back. 'Nowaki.'

'Yes.' It wasn't a question.

'Tell me why you're so sorry already.'

His stomach plummeted.

_Hiro-san is perceptive as always…_it did not, would not, occur to him to lie.

'I'm sorry', he croaked, 'because I was rock hard while it was happening.' He was horrified to feel himself shaking all over again. 'That's why he thought I was fine with it.'

The silence seemed endless.

Then his head was cupped and raised and kissed—not just on his mouth but his forehead, cheeks, chin, nose, eyebrows, everywhere. Savage kisses that spoke of nothing the boy could comprehend and yet felt better than anything Yuichi had tried or accomplished. When Hiroki's lips met his for a third time, Nowaki pressed deeper, opening his mouth automatically under the man's relentless attentions, his tongue pleasantly limp as it moved with the second muscle. He was gasping for air as they broke apart, clinging to Hiroki tighter than ever. A tear that he did not even know he had been holding was now teasing a trail down his cheek.

It was wiped away with the heel of the man's palm; Nowaki was no longer sure which of them was trembling, or if it was just the same beating of their hearts, because both of them seemed to be rocking as though tossed into a tempest.

It was no longer just his chest that pounded with blood. This realization was followed by an absurdly thankful stretch of embarrassment, as he tried to shift in Hiroki's arms without drawing notice to a part of him that now needed more attention than his lips did.

But Hiroki seemed to have noticed it anyway, because he let out a low, humming breath as Nowaki lowered his eyes. 'Felt that, did you?' he asked softly; the boy followed his gaze and blushed before nodding. A corner of Hiroki's mouth lifted in something that was not quite a smirk but a largely self-satisfied smile nonetheless. Whatever it was, it looked…_cute._

'Then there's nothing to be sorry about.'

oOo

**[A/N] Don't think it's going to be rainbows and butterflies so soon. It's only the twelfth chapter.**

**Kinda exhausted now…101****⁰****F can be a bitch…so not really in any condition to reply, but just wanna let my readers and reviewers know that I love you all anyway.**


	13. Breath of Life

_Breath of Life_

oOo

When Nowaki spoke again, his face and words still pressed into Hiroki's chest, it was with a slight shiver.

'Hiro-san…'

Hiroki frowned at the slight raise of pitch in the otherwise steady voice. 'What is it?'

'I'm cold', Nowaki mumbled.

Even as Hiroki wordlessly tightened his embrace, squeezing out all the gaps between their bodies, it occurred to him that he might need something more potent than a hug to warm up the shirtless Nowaki.

_And speaking of potent…_

Neither of their arousals had quite settled down yet either. He blushed at nothing in particular, suddenly very aware of the hard something he was doing his best not to rub against, and of what Nowaki might have been implying. He let his chin rest lightly on the boy's dark head and closed his eyes, praying for the composure to calmly carry out what he had every intention of doing now.

But first things first.

'Nowaki', his voice contained a quiver that nobody but himself could hear. Nowaki's inquiring eyes were met with a tender kiss to the forehead; russet held ocean blue firmly as Hiroki fought down his blush—this was no time to be shy—and whispered, 'I love you.'

The boy gasped just once before nodding fervently. 'I…!' The hands that were still gripping Hiroki's shirt pressed forward gently, pulling their faces even closer until they were almost nose to nose.

'I'll fall in love with you too, Hiro-san', he whispered back with a smile.

The rush of blood that Hiroki had tried so hard to smother blossomed furiously. It was all he could do not to hide his face from the eyes that had regained some of their coolness, and were now roving over the man's face with intent that was not wholly innocent.

'Still cold?' he inquired mildly, glad for the matching pink that now surged over the boy's cheeks at these words. Nowaki was blushing quite wholesomely as he wriggled a little, causing their members to rustle against each other, and buried his face in Hiroki's chest again.

'Just a little.'

_Well, it's probably going to get a little colder before it gets warmer_ was what Hiroki had been about to say when a sly set of fingers made themselves known at the small of his back, and any nerves-dispelling wisecrack he may have had in mind froze instantly. He let out a low growl of frustration instead and allowed Nowaki to pull him down for yet another kiss—sloppier and more heated now—even as his shirt was pushed off his shoulders, then shrugged off impatiently.

A part of Hiroki marveled at the warmth he was uncovering with his hands; another part of him briefly laughed at how different this was from what he had previously wanted with Akihiko…Akihiko whose skin was always so cold, and yet had felt so good to touch.

The last thought he had on the matter was _but that was when I didn't have Nowaki_ before it was wiped clean.

He reluctantly withdrew his hands—which had somehow entangled themselves in Nowaki's hair—placed one on the boy's chest, signaling him to stop. He tugged at silently Nowaki's wrist with his free hand and cocked his head at the futon. It was right behind them as he had dragged the sleeping giant to his bedroom before giving up on carrying him completely.

'It might be more comfortable there', he said, clearing his suddenly hoarse throat with a low cough. Nowaki's face flashed a decidedly mischievous expression, but turned obedient and smiling again as, without warning, Hiroki found himself swept up and deposited gently on the pillows of the futon. He was joined within the second by Nowaki, who—to Hiroki's astonishment—stayed on his back, pulling the man on top of him.

It would have been ironic if only the situation hadn't been so serious; Hiroki searched the boy's eyes for any lurking signs of uncertainty, and found none.

_I'm going to top him?_

He had no words left to form a question; choosing to let his body do the talking instead, he leaned to the side and tentatively traced the shell of Nowaki's ear with his tongue. The answering moan he was given was all the confirmation he needed.

_I'm bloody well going to top him._

His hands were now fumbling with the button on Nowaki's jeans, where they were joined by a second pair that made short work of both of their remaining clothes. Hiroki supposed he should be embarrassed now; it was not often that he willingly bared himself to a partner in bed, and on the rare occasions that he had found himself completely stripped it never failed to mortify him. _Shouldn't this be worse?_ Shouldn't he have been reaching for a blanket by now, especially when this was no random fuck but the person he now loved?

But with Nowaki's legs splayed so trustingly on either side of his hips, those long, strong arms hooked around Hiroki's neck, he could no longer find it in himself to be embarrassed. Or to feel anything besides the maddening warmth that was his new lover.

_Nowaki._

A sudden wave of wonder at the innocent beauty of the boy gushed through him.

'Nowaki', he murmured, as he traced the ridges that were beginning to form on the lean belly with a ticklishly light finger. The other hand reached for the bottle of lube that stood on the nightstand, keeping it ready. 'Do you know what your name means?'

Nowaki nodded before giving in to Hiroki's touch and what seemed to be a great deal of nervousness. 'It means "typhoon"', he giggled softly, shutting his eyes. 'Why—have I swept you away, Hiro-san?' *

_We'll see who's sweeping whom away in a while._ Hiroki snorted with laughter which abated rapidly as he realized how scared Nowaki really was, despite his ready smile. All teasing forgotten, he asked Nowaki to open his eyes, trying to steady his voice as much as he could. His heart clenched with delirious emotion to see this request obeyed immediately.

A second, more painful clench followed at the apprehension evident in those pools of blue.

'This will hurt a bit', Hiroki breathed gently, as his hand flicked the lube bottle open in one expert gesture, 'so if it's too painful, just tell me to stop.' He did not know whether or not to be thankful for his extensive practice with this sort of thing, but it was certainly giving him longer to reassure the boy who was apparently doing this for the first time. Already his fingers were coated in the slippery substance and inching downwards. 'Any time it hurts too much…'

'It won't', Nowaki muttered. 'I'll be fine.' Powerful legs were rose to wrap around the man's hips, and one arm fell to the mattress to grope around blindly for Hiroki knew not what.

'Please just hold my hand, Hiro-san.'

Hiroki had to close his own eyes for a moment as he lowered his head, trying to pass it off as a nod. _Damn brat._ There was no way he was going to cry at something like this. He reached down and clutched at Nowaki's hand, bringing their linked fingers up to face level.

Then the other hand stroked a leisurely trail down the length of the boy's cock before pausing at his puckered entrance. It circled once, twice—the second time being purely so that Hiroki could drink in the mix of surprise and pleasure that showed on Nowaki's face—then a finger pushed in.

'Relax', Hiroki almost cooed; Nowaki had tensed, his cheeks burning, eyes wide open. As seconds melted by, the man delved further into the slowly opening orifice and curled his finger to press against the spot where there should have been—

'Ooh!'

Sure enough, he'd found it, if Nowaki's suddenly shuttered eyes and relaxed hole were anything to go by. Hiroki brushed past the same spot again for good measure and Nowaki groaned, 'Hiro-san!'

_Fuck._

He eased his finger out as quickly as he could; the boy was loose enough now. Blue eyes opened curiously. Nowaki's voice was out of breath but inquisitive as he gasped, 'don't you need three?' **

Hiroki felt himself go beet red. 'What gave you that idea?' he asked incredulously, not stopping in his motions to align his throbbing cock with his lover's entrance.

Nowaki's lips formed a small 'o' of surprise and embarrassment before falling into a sheepish grin. 'Nothing—it's nothing. I'll tell you later.' He tilted his head up to meet Hiroki's lips with his own. 'Just don't stop, please.'

_Like I'd be able to stop now…_

'I won't', Hiroki growled, as he slid lower and the head of his organ buried itself inside Nowaki.

It was hot and tight and heavenly like nothing else on earth, as his vision blacked out and swam hazily back into focus, as he tried to convince himself that he would not die if he didn't push inside completely, as he grappled with the overwhelming desire to come on the spot because Nowaki just felt so ridiculously good around him—'Nowaki…!'

'Hiro-san…'

Hiroki forced his eyelids to rise and found himself staring into Nowaki's half-shut, undeniably watery eyes. His own blind ecstasy immediately simmered down; he began to leave calming kisses on the boy's chest, no longer able to reach his mouth because of the difference in their heights. He let his frantic apology communicate itself through the worshipful swipes of his tongue across hardened nipples. Through the soothing glide of his still-lubed free hand over a somewhat limp cock that caused an unreasonable shard of fear to pierce Hiroki.

'Don't worry', Nowaki said suddenly; his breath was torn in places by heavy breaths, but not pained. 'It doesn't hurt much. You can keep going…'

Despite the apparent sincerity in this urging, Hiroki shook his head stubbornly, continuing in his ministrations to the more neglected parts of Nowaki's body until he felt the muscles ringing his cock flutter and relax. A deep, undirected anger was welling in some corner of his heart.

_For how many years has he had to reassure people like this?_

This almost broken boy…had he ever been allowed any selfishness at all?

'Will you stop forgetting about yourself!' he did not say it, but his words were clearly articulated in the insistent slowness of his forward thrust. He answered Nowaki's almost impatient bucking of hips with a squeeze to the hands that still gripped each other tightly.

_Nowaki…a typhoon._ Nowaki felt so good from within, so insanely good. Hiroki was buried balls deep in him now, struggling not to cry out because it didn't seem fair that the one being impaled for the first time was apparently a lot calmer.

_Who's the one being swept away?_

He honestly did not know yet.

Nowaki opened his eyes wide and smiled downwards at Hiroki's concerned frown. 'You just feel so big', he chuckled. 'It doesn't hurt anymore, though.'

_BRAT._

'You're way too direct', Hiroki groaned, dipping his head to hide the new scarlet on his face. His teeth found the taut bud of a nipple and bit down gently. _Punishment._ He was delighted at the lovely arch that Nowaki rose into at this; but to draw out one of those coveted moans that the boy was less susceptible to making, his lover would need to couple the action with something else.

His lips never leaving the abused nipple, he drew out slightly, then slammed back in with more roughness than he had previously used. The response was immediate. He felt Nowaki's head thrash wildly to one side as though pushed, and an incoherent cry sounded from his lips.

_Playtime's over._

He withdrew and pushed back again at the same angle; once, then twice, then five and ten and twelve times and there was no counting to be done in Hiroki's head when the pushing and pulling in his cock was beginning to mount in response to Nowaki's rapidly accelerating moans—they'd built up a rhythm without intending to, a rhythm that was erratic in its musicality and threatening to drive them over the edge way too fast.

Nowaki was a breathtaking sight beneath the man's undulating thrusts. Some self-erected barrier of his had broken down during their banter and his cries now flowed freely with their movements, adding to the delectable mess that he had become; his child-smooth skin glistening with his and Hiroki's mingled sweat, nipples and cock now both wildly erect, abs tight and sensitive, tears of exertion streaking out the corners of his eyes into his already damp hair.

Hiroki managed, even through his maze of psychedelic rushes, to feel proud before he let his eyes shut.

'Hiro-san…I'm—I'm coming!'

By the time Hiroki's brain had jigsawed this new information into coherency, Nowaki was already unleashing one last helpless moan as his seed spewed haphazardly over his own chest and stomach; the clenches of his orgasm pulled Hiroki along with him almost immediately.

'Nowaki', he gasped one last time, letting go of all restraint—letting go of everything except Nowaki himself—shuddering violently when he felt his own seed erupt thrice inside his lover. His supporting elbows gave way and he collapsed, completely spent, on Nowaki's chest, only to be pulled up gently as his softening cock slipped out of the boy's entrance without protest.

He was now close enough to kiss Nowaki properly again, but the boy did it for him. 'Thank you, Hiro-san…' he sounded utterly lost, his eyes already beginning to shut. Hiroki propped himself up again, only vaguely aware of the come that had smeared all over his front, and snagged the tissues from the nightstand before Nowaki could drift off.

'Stay awake for just a moment', he said softly, 'we need to get you cleaned up.'

'All right', said Nowaki, ever the obedient student. 'But…we don't have to take a shower right now, do we?' _I'm far too tired _was evident in his sleepy, stumbling words. Hiroki laughed under his breath.

'If you can handle tissues, no, we're not going to shower now.'

'Hiro-san', Nowaki mumbled as he was wiped down with methodical hands, 'you said something earlier…about me being way too direct…do you not like it when I'm direct with you?'

Tired arms rose and drew Hiroki against a sweat-damp body, and the man was once again incensed by how close his lover had come to being crushed under his misfortunes.

'I never said I had a problem with it', he said quietly. 'I haven't met many people who're this direct, that's all. Just let me get used to you.'

Nowaki nodded and smiled, eyes fluttering shut.

After a couple of seconds, when fatigue grew too heavy to fight off any longer and he was convinced that Nowaki would not realize, Hiroki murmured for the second time, 'I love you.'

_It's me who's been swept away after all._

He did not hear the 'I'm glad' that Nowaki whispered in response. He was already asleep.

**[A/N] * 'Nowaki' does not literally mean 'typhoon' in Japanese, though that's the implied translation. To the best of my knowledge it actually means 'late autumn winds' or something similar; as such the English word 'typhoon' does not automatically translate into 'Nowaki' either. The Japanese word for 'typhoon' is actually the same as the English one, only pronounced in a different, more Japanese way. So it makes sense for Hiroki to ask Nowaki (somewhat rhetorically) if he knows what his name actually means, because he had a similar thought in the canon sex scene in JE Act 3: 'The name "Nowaki" means "typhoon".' This would not have arisen if the Japanese words 'Nowaki' and 'taifu' (to write it as one would if using the Kana) were interchangeable.**

**** Apparently the three-finger thing is wrong -_- I kinda bombed that myself in Daylit Storm, but expert opinion is that you only need one. With Nowaki's penchant for BL manga, though, I thought this might have confused him some.**

**Additional notes: 1. I hope the occasional comic relief I've put in here doesn't come across as a mood-killer. After writing two rather intense lemons I wanted to try something funny and playful for once; Nowaki bottoming with all his directness is anyway a potential source of hilarity for me xD and these two being light/fluffy in their interactions is just so cute. :3**

**2. Sorry about the lack of foreplay/oral too -_- they already had boners from the previous chapter, and somehow I couldn't really see Hiroki going down on Nowaki during their first time. (Also, virgin!Nowaki might have come instantly :P)**


	14. Collide

_Collide_

**[A/N] Prepare for a big bunch of banter, because I can ^_^ and then shit's gonna get real. Yep, in this chapter. Thanks to you'll see who.**

**And Hiroki's done his research into housing all right, despite how nervous he was. 8D I love me a researchy guy, and he has a laptop, so why the fuck not?**

oOo

'Nowaki.'

Weeks of being roused around midnight caused Nowaki to wake immediately. He forced his eyelids open, wincing in preparation for the light that would no doubt be switched on in order to prevent him from falling asleep again. His mind was already in the kitchen; it pulled out tea leaves from the topmost shelf above the stove, set water to boil, cursing Yuichi's sudden insomnia all the while.

But the room was dark.

Slender washes of evening light spilled through the drawn curtains and streaked messily stacked piles of books all around. In the midst of it, right beside him on the bed, was Hiroki. Their eyes met; the russet pair blinked guiltily.

The last of Nowaki's sleep left him and he smiled at the faint color visible on the man's cheeks, even in the grayness, as he turned his head away as quickly as possible. 'If you didn't want to be caught staring, Hiro-san, you shouldn't have called my name.'

'What are you talking about?' muttered Hiroki, propped on his elbows, his forehead against the pillow. 'I didn't say a thing. You must have been dreaming.'

_He's so cute._

Nowaki chuckled in an if-you-say-so sort of way before imitating the posture his lover had adopted, lying on his stomach with his elbows supporting his torso. A blanket had somehow draped itself over their bodies while he had been asleep. 'What time is it?'

'A little past six-thirty', said Hiroki. 'It's about time you woke up anyway. We need to find—hey!' he broke off indignantly as he was pushed down on the mattress and tugged closer to Nowaki, the blunt, insistent tugs of a stubborn child. 'Okay', said Nowaki serenely, when they were settled in the same position that they had been in before falling asleep. 'I'm sorry for interrupting, Hiro-san. Please go on.'

'I don't believe it', Hiroki mumbled waspishly. 'This isn't even a day old and you're already being sappy.'

'Sappy? I'm being direct', Nowaki teased. Hiroki chose to ignore this.

'Anyway, as I was saying…we need to find you a new apartment, don't we?'

'Oh.' What with the recent events of the day, the morning had been all but forgotten. 'Yes, I suppose.' Did he even have a week now? _Am I already without a home?_ Vaguely now in his mind he saw Yuichi waking to an empty house, and was alarmed to feel a pang at the thought that the man did not know how to cook.

'I said I'd find something', Hiroki was saying. 'I did—well, there's an area of Shinigawa district that's apparently famous for low-priced apartments. I can't imagine they're the most spacious things around, but from what I could find out it's a good enough balance between space and economy, especially for students. You might want to take a look there.'

'Students', Nowaki repeated wonderingly. 'Well, I suppose I'll pass my equivalency test—with your omnipotence teaching me, if I fail you'll probably kill me anyway.'

Hiroki missed the playfulness. 'You won't fail, don't be stup—oi, Nowaki, I can't fucking breathe.'

'Ah, sorry.' Nowaki's arms had been growing progressively tighter without meaning to. Hiroki shrugged and squirmed for a moment before muttering, 'and it's half an hour away by train.'

'That's close', Nowaki said softly. 'Thank you, Hiro-san.'

'Like I said, no problem.' The voice was gruff.

'No I mean…thank you for everything.' A hand rose to run through Hiroki's disheveled, sweaty locks. 'I never thanked you properly for offering to tutor me either.'

The man was silent for a while. 'I was the one who suggested it. There's no need to thank me', he said finally. A flame of mischief shot up in Nowaki at the ruffled tone of his words, and he grinned. 'Hiro-san, did you fall in love with me when you saw me crying that day?'

There was another pause.

'And what if I did?' Hiroki turned away in Nowaki's arms so his back was pressed against the boy's chest; little waves of pleasure rose up at the brush of skin against bare skin. 'It doesn't matter. You look better when you smile.'

_This man._

'I'll keep smiling, then', Nowaki mumbled, throat suddenly too tight. _I'll never have a reason not to smile if I'm with you._ 'Hiro-san, I…'

'Hmm?' A slight shift followed—who started it was a mystery—so Nowaki's chin ended up resting on his lover's shoulder, breath reflected off the sweat-sticky collarbones of Hiroki's chest.

'Hiro-san…' _I love you._

He couldn't say it. For whatever reason—and he was no fool to deny that the now lonely Yuichi had something to do with it—the words stuck far more painfully in his throat than they should have.

_But I said I'd fall in love in with you too…_and it was true; he had been falling for days. But as long as that part of his mind lived on, he could not say he had fallen completely. Something caught hold of him every time…something no less real because unwelcome.

'I know. It's all right', said Hiroki, voice betraying no emotion. Nowaki was glad that their eyes could not meet in this position. He turned his head to kiss his lover's neck as yet another thanks for all that had just been given to him. _All that I cannot completely give back yet._

'I'm sorry', he breathed against the salty skin.

Hiroki sighed. Then he twisted back to face Nowaki again, putting an arm around the hips that had encased him an hour ago. 'I've told you that there's nothing to be sorry about.'

_Don't be so good to me,_ Nowaki found himself thinking. _Why make me feel any guiltier?_

_You're too kind…so kind that I can hardly bear it._

But what he said, with equal sincerity, was 'Hiro-san, you're cute.'

'Don't think you're so much better just because you're tall', snapped Hiroki. 'How tall are you anyway? You're fucking huge, you know that?'

'186 centimeters', Nowaki said casually. The response was a disbelieving snort.

'Damn, your height pisses me off sometimes.' There was no edge to the voice; it was more lazy than caustic, and the boy could have sworn the fiery eyes were glinting with some sort of curious humor. 'What are you, an idiot?' Hiroki added softly after a while. 'No one's ever called me that before.'

'That's okay then', said Nowaki, expression deadpan. 'I want to be the only one who knows.' He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Hiroki's; he had decided some time ago that kissing the man was one of the most wonderful things he had experienced in his life. It purged him of Yuichi's touch with every burning caress. Made him want to delve deeper and deeper still until there was no distinction between his body and his lover's. Stirred him in ways that he had not thought possible until now.

'Hiro-san', he said plaintively, as he broke away and buried his nose in Hiroki's shoulder, 'I don't want to go back.' He had no idea what his return to the apartment that he shared with Yuichi would entail; despite having gained the upper hand in the exchange of the morning he felt shamefully vulnerable, exposed, and he now clutched at Hiroki like a drape for his physical and emotional nakedness.

'Good, because you're not.'

Nowaki's head rose. 'I'm not?'

'You really are an idiot', said Hiroki sharply. 'You've got nothing to go back to now, do you?'

Nowaki did not stop to think of all that the sentence implied before replying in the negative.

oOo

The morning sun was not bright enough to sting their eyes as their shoes tapped on the relatively deserted morning streets of Shinigawa.

It was blinding to Nowaki.

The edges of the sidewalk looked saber-sharp; the faint scent of flowers that pervaded the densest of concrete jungles during spring was inebriatingly strong. Every building, every early riser yawning their way to an unknown destination seemed glorious.

And Hiroki—his Hiro-san, walking beside him with a never-fading pink tingeing his face, was a vision.

Nowaki felt light, untethered. It was a new sensation and he basked in it like he would in sunrays. While he knew that some things—he chose not to elaborate on the things in question, even to himself—had not yet been sorted out, his life had nonetheless finally taken the turn that he had anticipated for years. _A turn for the better._

He cast a sideways glance at Hiroki, who seemed lost in thought. _No—for the best._

'Hiro-san', he said presently, after looking around to make sure that no prying eyes were present around them for now.

'What?'

Before Hiroki could react, Nowaki swooped down and stole a light kiss. He was rewarded with a blow to the shoulder as the man glared at him and hissed, 'Watch it! We're in public!'

He had expected something similar and his mood was too playful to be ruffled easily, so he simply smiled an apology at his lover. Hiroki huffed for a moment before a hand brushed against Nowaki's, inviting him to take it.

The boy carefully considered all the pride that Hiroki was sacrificing to extend that gesture and his spirits lifted even higher.

Hands loosely grasping each other, they walked on in silence. Nowaki was clueless as to where in Shinigawa they were headed; his mind had already relinquished control to Hiroki's single-minded intensity. 'Hiro-san, where are we going?'

'The area that I looked up should be somewhere close by', Hiroki muttered. He was clearly absorbed in whatever his eyes were searching for; his voice sounded distant and unbearably cute. Nowaki allowed himself a smile at how completely the man could concentrate on everything.

'There's a notice for a vacant apartment over there', he said suddenly, his eyes falling on a sign near the wall of the next building, the words 'TO LET' visible even from a distance. 'Could I take a look at that, Hiro-san?'

Hiroki seemed to jerk out of a daze. 'Huh? A notice? Sure.'

When they neared the notice in question, it turned out to be for a redundantly large apartment that Nowaki had no use for and certainly would not be able to afford. He shrugged unconcernedly; Hiroki was taking him somewhere, after all.

'Wait, I think the area starts from here.' Hiroki was peering down a narrow lane that veered off the main road. 'Not the easiest place to find. Damn, if it's so full of empty apartments they should make it more accessible', he grumbled, turning towards the other road. 'Come on, Nowaki.'

'Won't you come this way instead?'

Their heads whipped in the direction of the new voice. A tall blond man with a smirk on his otherwise handsome face stood on the corner of the street across them. His eyes narrowed as he purred, 'I can show you some better accommodations.'

It took Nowaki a moment to recognize the man, but when he did he felt his face whiten.

If he had looked at Hiroki in that moment, he would have noticed that his lover had blanched too.

oOo

**[A/N] Behold Shinoda the shit-bringer. :) Though for some reason I can't get the missing bits out of my head…just imagine them lying in bed all evening, fucking whenever they felt like it? Damn, all the feelings…must not cry with fangirliness…(this is giving me terribly unapologetic ideas for smut.) By the way, Shinigawa does exist, but I have no idea how good it is for housing. I suck at research myself -_- Hiroki, y u no do my research as well.**

**Omigosh reviews! :D I've replied to all the YFF ones on that site (bless the direct review reply system and all the other stuff that this place doesn't have!), so here come the FF ones :)**

**Hana: Love how you're reviewing even during the holidays. . Hope you're having fun? The hand-holding was put in purely for the 'aww' factor; I'm glad you found it sweet! (It also happens in canon, so canon butchering took place too now that I think of it.)**

**AZ: Ah, I wasn't trying to say anything about Hiroki's package :D but wait, you're right, Nowaki might have thought that! Whut! Thank god I had him say 'you feel so big' later on. -_-**

**Sakana-senpai: *drowns in compliments* you spoil this girl too much. :3 Hopefully I can win you over from the Romantica fan club and convert you to Egoist one day…before this fic is done maybe? You seem to like my Hiroki an awful lot… ^_^**

**Cool-girl027: Thank you for your interest. Hope to hear from you more often! :D**

**Damons: Wow, a review both here and there? Thank you so much. ^_^ Good to know the 'sweet' sex scene was also hot! :3**


	15. One More Time

_One More Time_

**[A/N] A fast update to celebrate my mastery of Katakana at last! :D Now I'm done with the Kana in entirety and can really get down to Kanji. (And the grammar, ahem. And the damn vocabulary. Then I can buy the Junjou raws like a boss…yes, I'm learning Japanese primarily for that.) Oh, and yippee flangst! I'm so in my element right now :D**

oOo

_It's Shinoda._

There was no time to think. Hiroki clutched at Nowaki's hand, turning abruptly away and dragging the boy with him down the lane leading to their destination. It was only as they rounded the corner that he thought to turn back and yell over his shoulder, 'We're perfectly fine, thanks!'

_Shinoda…_

He was practically running by the time they were what he deemed an appropriate distance from Shinoda; leaning heavily on the wall of a nearby building, Hiroki tried to recover his breath, all too aware that Nowaki was observing him keenly.

'You know Shinoda-san too, Hiro-san?'

_How I wish I didn't._ 'Yes', said Hiroki cagily. Then after a full two seconds, 'hang on! What d'you mean, "too"?'

'I used to see him visiting sometimes when—Yuichi and I were still living with his mother.' Nowaki frowned broodingly. 'Tsumori-san is a businesswoman and she had deals with him for property and things. He's a real estate agent, so…'

Hiroki's mind rapidly tucked Yuichi's surname into his memory for future reference before flitting back on track.

_I know he's a real estate agent..._ 'Why the hell is he here?' muttered Hiroki furiously. Of course, he'd known that there was every possibility of Shinoda being there. His anxious musings as they walked further into Shinigawa had not been unfounded; he remembered Shinoda's address all too well after having woken in his apartment with no clothes on. _Maybe the reason I remember so clearly is because I was completely naked…_

_Or maybe it's something else._

'_You're trapped in a one-sided love that won't go anywhere, am I right?'_

'Fuck', Hiroki said to nothing in particular when his heart began to thud. _I thought my love for Akihiko was a million miles away._ It was; he knew he loved Nowaki with all of himself in a way that he would never have experienced with his childhood friend. _But if I love Nowaki…_

What was the ache in his chest doing there? What business did his heart have hurting when Nowaki's hand was still warm in his own?

'Nowaki, let's…' _Let's just go home. I don't want to see anything or anyone else._

'What is it, Hiro-san?' asked Nowaki, raising Hiroki's chin with his free hand, worry evident in his piercing blue eyes. 'Are you all right?'

_I need to find _you_ a home first._

'Nothing. Let's go', said Hiroki briefly, turning away. He was stopped by Nowaki, who stayed where he was, grasping the man's hand firmly with a small smile. 'Hiro-san, is it okay if we just go back now?'

'What?' Hiroki cursed the relief that cracked and flowed in his voice at Nowaki's words.

Nowaki's face wore a curiously understanding expression. 'I don't know…maybe it was running into Shinoda-san like that, but I'm really not in the frame of mind to house-hunt any more…I…'

He pulled his lover closer; Hiroki's unresisting legs obeyed.

'I think I just want to be with you right now', he finished, smile softening when Hiroki flushed; he had been seen through.

_You guessed…you knew what I was thinking, didn't you? _Direct people, it seemed—like Nowaki, like Shinoda—would always be one step ahead of him.

'Oh well', he said finally, forcing himself to look resigned, 'I suppose that would be fine. You should just rest today, anyway.' _If you really can see through me…_

'Rest, Hiro-san?'

_You can. Damn brat._

'What's that, some sort of seducing phrase?' The words were out of his mouth before he could process what he would be implying. There was a moment of silence—stunned on Nowaki's part, mortified on Hiroki's.

'Hiro-san—?'

'No, that's not right!' said Hiroki hastily. 'I wasn't implying anything! Just—ugh! Let's just get on the train and—oh f—I mean shit', he finished ungraciously. 'Let's get home already, okay?' His face had just crossed all boundaries of red.

'Of course', Nowaki grinned. 'Let's go _home._'

_Did he do that on purpose?_ Nowaki's unconscious acceptance that Hiroki and he were living together, even if as a temporary arrangement, caused Hiroki's heart to flutter infuriatingly.

_It's far too early to be thinking about that,_ he had to tell himself. And just like that, his earlier doubt returned in full force as he watched the boy's gentle lips curve out the corner of his eye, wondering where they were headed…and how he had been able to give up twelve years of longing in favor of two weeks.

How rapidly his heart had decided, _I want to know everything._

oOo

Hiroki was far more silent on the train than he had expected himself to be. He struggled against the temptation to just bask in the concern that Nowaki's unquestioning gaze radiated; his mind was absurdly turbulent as he tried not to feel the sudden tendrils of ice snaking around his chest.

It had been three days since he'd even tried to convince himself that he was still in love with Akihiko. _Then why…_

Why was all the weariness of twelve years crashing back upon him now?

'Nowaki', he said softly, willing his voice to remain level, 'how much longer is the train ride?'

'I'd say just five minutes or more', Nowaki replied immediately. Hiroki had not felt the eyes leave his face once. 'I _would_ put my arm around you or something, Hiro-san, but we're in public and you don't like to…'

_Do I really look that needy right now?_

For his own sake he decided not to ask that question, choosing instead to let his head drop feebly onto his lover's shoulder. _Nowaki, Nowaki…_

Gentle pressure on the top of his head told him Nowaki was leaning on him too. He smiled sardonically. _We're leaning against each other like cards in a castle._

_If one of the cards flutters even a little, doesn't the entire castle fall?_

'Hiro-san', Nowaki murmured after a while. 'Though I'll be around all day, in the evening I have a shift at a flower shop…'

'I'll be fine', Hiroki growled immediately, then realized how he had let slip that at present he was definitely not fine. 'I mean—I'm fine even now. I don't see why you're worrying.'

_Thank you for worrying. _The tension in his stomach was rapidly solidifying into physical pain; he just wanted to get home.

_Home with Nowaki._

oOo

'_Oh, by the way. You were mumbling something in your sleep…send my regards to "Akihiko-kun".'_

'_You're cowards who try to act all tough, scared of having your shell broken…that's why you create the image of a proud, aloof person.'_

'_I think you're the same kind of person as me, though…'_

'Hiro-san…'

Hiroki shivered even in the embrace of warmth.

'_You want help and yet you do useless things…'_

'_We could lick each other's wounds. I am going to lick you.'_

'Hiro-san.'

'Huh?' Hiroki raised his head from where he had been resting it on Nowaki's arm. The boy was still watching him. He had been watching him all day.

'Come here', said Nowaki softly, pulling him closer. The windows had been thrown open to ease their perspiration, and Hiroki was grateful for the contrast of heat and cool late-morning wind; it made him feel relaxed and a little sleepy at last. He burrowed his head into Nowaki's side. The smell of their mingled sweat was stronger here, but Hiroki welcomed it as proof of their love.

_Our love?_

_The kid who can tell me that my dick feels big in his ass can't say that he loves me._

He struggled not to shake his head externally. Doubting Nowaki now was going to help nothing.

'When do you have to go?'

'Not for ages', mumbled Nowaki. 'My shift is in the evening and I'll be back in three hours.' A brief silence followed, in which Hiroki raised a hand and began to trace shapeless patterns on the firm, bare chest to prevent his thoughts from drifting away again. Then the boy added, 'Hiro-san, if something is bothering you—which it is—I'll be around to listen.'

'I'm fine', Hiroki barked reflexively before going limp in defeat. 'I'm just…getting my thoughts in order…kind of like an internal conference.'

'_Did you ever go out with Shinoda-san?'_ The question was so expected that he was composing a reply before he even heard it articulated. _No, never._ Thanks to his reclusive nature and businesslike demeanor with his previous sexual partners, Nowaki was well and truly the first person he could say he was going out with.

But the question didn't come. It would have cost him only a little more pride—what was just a bit more, after all?—to wonder aloud why Nowaki had not asked it, but Hiroki kept his mouth stubbornly shut.

'It's getting on to noon, Hiro-san.'

_Senior thesis, grad school thesis, tutoring, shower, lunch._ There were too many reasons for them to get up now. The brown-haired man could not imagine leaving his lover's arms to do a thing. He merely shifted a bit and kept stroking Nowaki's chest with one finger; he was aware of how utterly lost he must seem, knew he was worrying Nowaki, and felt madly happy at the concern.

And yet—because love, he was fast realizing, could be a strange thing—he did not want Nowaki to worry any longer.

'All right.' _Don't feel so good against me._

_Don't look at me with those eyes._

_Don't be so lovable that I can't stop falling for you harder with every moment._

_Please be all of these things forever,_ he thought. 'I'll make lunch today.'

'Eh? It's no trouble', Nowaki smiled, and Hiroki was kissed deeply before the mattress shifted and a great deal of the warmth he had felt vanished. A blanket was immediately tucked around his now exposed body. _Yes…stay this way forever. As long as it takes for me to figure myself out._

_I don't want to worry you._

But he was doing a fine job of worrying Nowaki already, if not in the way that he supposed. His lover turned to look back at him on his way to the shower and Hiroki again felt a gently inquiring gaze sweep the length of him; what he did not know was that, in the face of his sudden withdrawal, he had set off some doubts in Nowaki's weary heart as well.

Russet eyes stared unseeingly at the bathroom door long after it had shut behind the boy.

_Aren't there limits to how much you can love a person?_

_If I can let go, will I ever love like this again?_

oOo

**[A/N] This is what I believe would have happened had Hiroki's second sighting of Shinoda taken place earlier into his relationship with Nowaki; the entire Shinoda fiasco happened because Hiroki was unable to let go of his feelings for Akihiko even for a moment, so I wondered if he would have begun to doubt himself and Nowaki on remembering how long he waited for Akihiko to love him back, and if that kind of love could even be relinquished. (This is only emotional shit getting real, but the next chapter takes it up to eleven.) Review please? :3**

'**Internal conference' was ripped off of 'Carp on the Chopping Block Jumps Twice'…Kyouichi Ootomo, y u no real? :D Reviews, yay! YFF ones are replied to (or being replied to -_-) there, and FF ones are here.**

**Sakana-senpai: Whut? I'm really converting you? Join the club! :3 (Also, I have a feeling I know why you think cute behavior is specific to ukes. :D)**

**Damons: Thank you for always being so regular ^_^ so here comes Shinoda like I said.**

**AZ: Good to know you liked the banter! I do so LURVE it when they're semi-playful like that. And no worries about the package—we're all perverts here. :3**


	16. Connections

_Connections_

**[A/N] I'm not really back; this chapter has been pending publication for weeks and I thought I might as well get it over with.**

**Kinda hard to work with only surnames when you're writing in English, so I've invented a first name for Shinoda too. :) And it ain't Mike. (Though I do happen to be an occasional Fort Minor fan.)**

oOo

_Shinoda_

Despite his customary coolness, when Shinoda Kei first spotted the two men on the sidewalk opposite him—one whom he had not seen since the latter was a small boy—the first thing that sprang to his mind was: _this world is far too small._

_Kamijou and Nowaki…together._ The chances were so remote, it wasn't even funny. The bright-eyed not-quite-a-servant, not-quite-a-relative from Tsumori's household…and the stubbornly temperamental man who had so vehemently rejected Shinoda over an unrequited love that, if the linked hands he could see were any indication, had promptly dissolved on meeting Nowaki.

_Looks like you had your wounds licked clean after all, Kamijou-kun._

But not by Shinoda. _I don't know how much of my interest in you was a joke, but all of it definitely wasn't._ While it pleased him faintly to see that Kamijou had finally shaken off his past affection for more reasonable relationships, the brunet's denials still rankled; the fact that their first meeting couldn't have been more than a month ago made things worse.

'_To deceive myself would be too pitiable!'_

And here he was, hand in fucking hand with the most improbable person Shinoda could think of…so was he still deceiving himself?

Or had Nowaki successfully passed through Kamijou's barriers for good?

He watched the taller of the two point out something—presumably the notice on the next building—and Kamijou's immediate shift in attention. _Looks more like he got let in by Kamijou himself._

Maybe it was just curiosity, or maybe he really had liked Kamijou too much; for what it was worth, Shinoda couldn't resist the thought of giving them a bit of a scare.

_If only to see Kamijou panic._ The kid looked cute when flustered.

'Wait, I think the area starts from here', he was saying when Shinoda was within earshot, peering down a lane that the real estate agent knew well. 'Come on, Nowaki.'

His mind began to process this information before the other two men could even turn away.

_That's the area famous for cheap apartments._

_They're searching for housing…_

_To live together?_

Or—a possibility that suggested itself a bit too late—had Nowaki begun to live on his own at last?

'Won't you come this way instead?' he heard himself call across the street, knowing exactly what Kamijou would do, and rather enjoying the prospect of stirring him up some. 'I can show you some better accommodations.'

Both men recognized him; both men turned white.

'We're perfectly fine, thanks!' And they were gone, rounding the corner and disappearing from sight with Kamijou in the lead and Nowaki being half-dragged behind.

oOo

'_Thank you for working with us, Tsumori-san.' Shinoda bowed and exited the lavish office-cum-study that Tsumori Tamako used when she worked from home. He was glad for the woman's professional cordiality; maybe it was the difference that dealing with a woman made, but he felt more relaxed around her than he did around his own boss._

_He was shown out by the same servant who had led him to the office room, down flights of staircases and through enormous corridors—and past a room that a gangly blond boy, apparently Tsumori's son, exited just as they passed. He eyed Shinoda curiously._

'_Are you one of the people mom keeps bringing home?' he demanded._

_Shinoda stiffened a bit at the implication. 'That depends on what your mother brings other people home for.'_

'_For work, of course', said the boy, rolling his eyes. 'I know what you're thinking and I didn't mean it that way. Mom's too busy for anything like that.'_

'_Ah.' Shinoda relaxed, feeling rather foolish, not to mention dirty-minded. 'Then yes, I did have some business deals to make…what's your name, boy?' he added, trying to be polite._

'_Tsumori Yuichi.' No usual 'please be kind to me' followed._

'_Nice name', said Shinoda noncommittally. Yuichi shrugged. 'If you say so. Now if you'll let me be, I have to go out. Come, Nowaki!' he called at the room he had come out of. At this he was joined by a somewhat shorter—and evidently younger—boy who looked nothing like the Tsumoris. His dark hair and sullen blue eyes stood out next to Yuichi's paler features like ink on a canvas._

_Nonetheless, Shinoda took his chances. 'Your brother?'_

'_Something like that, I guess', said Yuichi casually. The servant interjected with a soft, admonishing 'Yuichi-sama!' which was ignored by the boy._

'_Anyway, I need to go now. Nice knowing you. C'mon, dahling.'_

_He strode past them down the corridor and out of sight, a dispirited-looking Nowaki trailing in his wake. He hadn't met Shinoda's eyes or spoken a word._

oOo

_Tusmori's kid must have been…what? Fourteen? Fifteen?_ That would make Nowaki around twelve—_then again, he's tall for his age._

After that first meeting, Shinoda had seen Nowaki around the house with increasing frequency as the years passed. For some reason the work he did also grew progressively more menial—at one point he had seen the boy carrying a basketful of filthy clothes to and from the laundry room. And, of course, there was the little matter of the last time they'd seen each other in that house…

Nowaki had become the servant who escorted him to Tsumori's office and back.

_What were you to that house?_

Shinoda knew that part of his curiosity stemmed from having seen him with Kamijou, of all people, but he was also very interested to see that little Yuichi's lapdog had somehow broken free, been released—whatever it was, he had not expected it.

The last he'd heard of Nowaki had been that he was accompanying Yuichi to a new apartment from where the older boy would attend college. _Tsumori never brought him up after that…not that I even asked._

So had Yuichi kicked him out? Had Nowaki run away? Somehow Shinoda found it hard to imagine a third possibility; what little he knew about Tsumori's son had not given him a favorable idea of the boy's generosity. _If Nowaki started out as a servant…or even if he didn't. As long as he ended up a servant, there didn't seem much chance of him rising above that._

_And just what—how did he even meet Kamijou…_

The fact that they'd been holding hands tickled him. The thought of fiery, uptight Kamijou, who avoided loud arguments for fear of upsetting his neighbors, allowing Nowaki to hold his hand in public was amusing in a way that also, for some reason or the other, pissed him off a little.

_Who am I kidding? I guess I really did like him._ He smiled wryly, remembering the punch he'd received for making a move on the man. _Like there's any point dwelling on that now._

_So…how to get to the bottom of this?_

It was none of his business, but he had every intention of finding out just what had happened with the Tsumoris as well as Kamijou before his question began to eat at him. And there was only one way to go about it, risky as it was.

oOo

_Bullshit._ His call to Tsumori was utter bullshit. It had been a while since they'd held a conversation on any topic besides business, so he had his hands full with trying to sound both aloof and ingratiatingly pleasant. Several times the mere thought of asking for her son's phone number blossomed and wilted in his mouth before it could be articulated; so much so, that he resorted to more roundabout means in the end: 'So Tsumori-san, how's your son been?'

'Oh, he's been pulling along—I visited him a week ago and haven't heard from him since, but he should be fine. He's in capable hands.'

_Capable hands?_ Was she talking about Nowaki?

'So he has domestic help in his apartment, I take it?'

'Well, not domestic help, exactly…' the woman coughed delicately. _Looks like she doesn't really know what to label his status as either. _'I sent Nowaki with him, as you might remember. Hemi district's a busy place to be living in, and Yuichi doesn't have the time to do his housework—he's so busy with school these days.'

'Ah.' _So whatever happened, happened without her knowledge…_and just a few days ago too, apparently. 'Well, I was just asking, because I happen to be in Hemi district myself at present', he said smoothly, lying through his teeth. _I seem to have gotten better at this over the years._ 'I wouldn't mind dropping in on your son for you and seeing if he's okay.'

'Would you?' Shinoda felt a brief stab of guilt to hear the genuine gratitude in the woman's voice, but reminded himself that he _would_ be finding out about Yuichi one way or the other—she'd get the news of his well-being either way. 'That would mean a lot to me, Shinoda-san. Are you sure it won't be inconvenient for you?'

'Not at all, not at all', said Shinoda amiably. 'If I could just have his phone number, to let him know that I'll be passing by…and to remind him of who I am, because I'm sure he doesn't remember…' _Nowaki does, but then Nowaki's obviously smarter than the brat._

'Oh, no problem', gushed Tsumori. _Are all mothers so gullible?_ Shinoda wondered vaguely. _One mention of doing her son some good and she's falling over herself._ He had not seen this side of the usually stoic woman many times before, and it was with care that he made a mental note of his business partner's weakness.

Phone number in contacts and phone in hand, as Shinoda dialed Yuichi he could not stop a morbid inquisitiveness from rising. It _had_ been years, after all—three whole years in which the brat had no doubt turned into some sort of man. If his younger self was anything to go by, Shinoda did not have high expectations of the grownup version, but he would get to know in a second anyway because the rings had stopped.

'Moshi moshi?' the voice was deeper and had more of a drawl than he remembered, but it was Yuichi's all right—and it sounded unbelievably tired.

_Sleeping at noon on a Sunday?_ Shinoda never had much respect for slackers, and his premeditated dislike of Tsumori Yuichi increased dramatically at this new information.

'Hello', he began brusquely, 'this is Tsumori Yuichi-san, am I correct?'

'Sure is', came the sleepy reply. 'Who're you?' *

_Let's see how good a memory you have._ 'Shinoda Kei. I believe I met you a few times when you still lived with your mother; I work with her occasionally.'

Yuichi's scowl was almost audible as he replied, 'oh, yes, I remember you. What happened? Does mom want something?'

'…not quite', Shinoda began carefully, too surprised at the boy's remembrance to stay rude. 'If you don't mind, I was wondering about…well…' _for lack of a better word…_ 'That brother of yours. Nowaki.'

The reply was curt. 'What about him?'

'Well, if I'm right in my deduction he no longer lives with you—'

'I don't know.'

Shinoda raised an unseen eyebrow. 'I'm sorry?'

'I said', Yuichi snapped, 'I don't fucking know. Now if you'll just get off the line I need to get back to sleep.' **

'So he ran away?' Shinoda asked swiftly, sensing that the other man was about to hang up. 'He ran away, didn't he?'

'Shinoda', Yuichi said, voice blunt enough to injure, 'unless you were planning on buying him—which I don't suppose you were—it's nothing to you. He's gone.'

'I know that. I also know that he's looking for a new apartment with a man named Kamijou.'

The silence stretched on for so long that Shinoda had begun to wonder if Yuichi's battery had gone dead. Then the voice spoke up again. 'How do you know Kamijou?'

'Well', Shinoda muttered, relieved at some form of progress, 'let's just say I do. Not closely, but yes.' _You don't not know people you wake up naked with…even if they punch you…especially if they punch you._

'And…' Yuichi trailed off, but the other man was first astonished at the immediate change in tone; there was no strain of resistance in his voice anymore, only grim eagerness.

'Shinoda-san', he heard at last, 'we need to meet.'

oOo

**[A/N] * Asking a person 'who are you?' in Japanese, or 'anata wa dare desu ka?' is considered impolite. The standard thing is to ask 'onamae wa nandesu ka?' or 'what is [your] name?' because the 'who are you' variation actually has implications of 'who on earth/who the hell are you?' (And idk if it's my imagination, but asking a person who they are in English sounds kinda rude too. It would definitely sound rude in Tsumori's voice, heh.) That's why Shinoda also responds in a like manner, since he never had a good impression of the guy to begin with and the whole conversation must have irked him even more.**

**** Too much sleeping is one of the symptoms of severe depression. More so when you take into account that Yuichi's supposed to have **_**insomnia**_**. Make of that what you will ^_^**


	17. Darker, Lighter

_Darker, Lighter_

**[A/N] Whew. Finally getting this baby back on track! *wipes sweat* I owe all my readers an apology for disappearing in the middle of not one but two stories like that (special mention of an anonymous reviewer named Ella, who expressed a particular impatience with slow updaters)—RL things kinda got out of hand, but I'm all good now. ^_^ And here's the poor left-hanging Nowaki! Enjoy.**

oOo

There were too many things wrong with Nowaki at present. The first was his relief that Yuichi was not at home.

The second was that Yuichi was not at home.

_Why isn't he here?_

_For that matter, why am _I _here?_

_To get my stuff,_ he'd told himself throughout his flower shop shift. He needed to stop at the apartment that he had shared with Yuichi, because he had left almost everything he owned behind. But his mind hadn't stopped at that, of course—the real reason he was now standing in the doorway of his old home was because his lack of possessions left him feeling raw and naked in his lover's presence.

The third thing that was wrong with Nowaki was possibly the very real fear now creeping upon him.

_One glimpse of Shinoda-san, and Hiro-san just lost it?_

This question had turned over and over in his head until it landed on its other side: _when I know nothing about him, how do I know what he was thinking when we began this?_

…_what are we to Hiro-san?_

_And if I don't know the answer to that, why am I taking my stuff to his apartment? Why am I here?_

'Yuichi…?'

His voice sounded higher and shakier than usual. _He really isn't home. He…he really isn't home._ Nowaki had never come back to emptiness before. He did not even bother to wonder where the man could have gone; the mere fact of his absence felt like the breaking of their shared past.

Like all breakings, it was painful.

He made it into his room and halfway through his hurried packing before pausing to wipe his tears away with an impatient hand. _Well, it's not the first time he's made me cry, is it?_ he said to himself, feeling like a child all over again while doing so. _Only this time, I don't think he meant to._

'I wonder who'll make you tea now', he mumbled to the kitchen at large after having finished. 'I wonder if you'll ever get over that ridiculous insomnia.' He wanted to say goodbye. He didn't want to say goodbye.

'…Yuichi…sleep well.'

'I'll do my best, thank you.'

The boy spun around to see Yuichi's lithe frame leaning against the doorsill of the living room. In his hurry to sort himself out and get his belongings, Nowaki had left the front door open.

oOo

'Hiro-san', Nowaki said softly at dinnertime. His lover looked up from his meal with an expression that was so heartbreakingly disoriented that it was all the younger boy could do to stay where he was.

'What is it?' Hiroki asked, his voice almost as quiet as Nowaki's, his tone mild and inoffensive and completely unlike him. It was downright frightening, but it paled before what Nowaki wanted to say.

_I was just getting my things from Yuichi's apartment—_

_I've already started calling it "Yuichi's apartment"?—_

_And I ran into him. He wasn't easy to miss, really. He was just leaning against the doorframe like this happened everyday, but when I ran from there he tried to stop me. No, he wasn't easy to miss,_

_But I think I miss him a little._

_Anyway, I left all my packed things behind, so you didn't ask how I'd got them. You wouldn't have asked anyway, Hiro-san, because you're still holding that internal conference you mentioned, and it doesn't seem to be getting over. Hiro-san, Yuichi called my name after me so many times that it's still ringing in my ears. I didn't look back, of course, but it sounded like he was crying too._

_I hope he didn't see my face when I ran for it. I hadn't wiped it again. It's not the first time he's made me cry, I promise you, but he didn't mean to this time. I didn't want him to apologize because he doesn't know how to, so it would only embarrass him. He's bad with feelings, I know. That's why I'm trying to forget what he did to make me leave._

_It's a good thing you were there for me when I was trying to pull myself together after that morning. But I don't know what's happened to you, and you won't tell me, and I don't know how to believe that this is love. Until then, I can't say I love you._

_What are we to you, Hiro-san?_

'Nowaki, what is it?' Hiroki prompted gently. The meekness of his words only made Nowaki's eyes prickle again.

'Nothing, Hiro-san. I—I forgot what I was going to say.'

_See it._

_See what I'm not telling you. See that I'm lying through my teeth, that I'm dying for you to call me out on my pathetic excuse and force me to tell you what I want to say._

Hiroki's eyes drooped. 'Oh…if you say so.'

_We're both so selfish…_

'Hiro-san', Nowaki said again, louder this time. The man raised his head with weary anticipation, and his lover's heart shuddered under the weight of another crack.

'I remember now.'

With deliberation, he shuffled around the table until they were sitting side by side. Then he placed a finger under Hiroki's sharp chin and tilted his face up; so slowly that his arm almost began to ache, he leaned forward until their lips were an inch apart. He could feel his breath rushing against Hiroki's parted mouth, curling back to his own face, for a brief second before the distance between them had closed and he was being kissed.

Just before his chest could begin to heave anew, the kiss was broken and Hiroki's shaggy brown head sagged onto Nowaki's chest. He smiled as best he could and put his arms around the man.

'_Oi, Nowaki, I can't fucking breathe.'_

There was no complaint, only a soft sigh of some unknown emotion.

_Hiro-san…_

_Love me._

_Even if there's no way to be absolutely sure of anything, I need to know that you love me._

_I'm holding you, I'm ready for you. Touch me. Take me._

_I didn't run away from Yuichi to face this…_

It felt like a year since they'd laid eyes on Shinoda that morning; the previous evening seemed to have happened a century ago. The memory of their lovemaking earlier seemed to be coming undone with every moment that Hiroki stayed limp and unresponsive in Nowaki's arms, and Nowaki found himself reeling in the curious mix of helplessness and arousal that he'd never thought he'd feel for anyone other than the man he had left behind.

_Now you've got everything that was mine to give._ _If that isn't enough, what are we doing?_

He almost missed the faint growl that carried his name, but not quite. He didn't miss the hands clutching his arms either. They bore through him.

'…Hiro-san?'

'Nowaki, I can't breathe…'

'I'm sorry.'

'There's nothing to be sorry about.' It sounded automatic.

'Then what are you playing at?'

When Hiroki looked up, it was straight into a pair of burning blue eyes.

'What are you thinking, Hiro-san?'

There was no pause before Hiroki opened his mouth, but there were no words either. Only a startled 'oof!' as the larger, warmer pair of hands went straight to his shoulders and pushed him to the floor, pinning him in place while his lover loomed atop him.

'Why am I in your house?' Nowaki asked steadily. His hands were shaking so hard that he could see the older man's body trembling in time with his own, but he was not sure why.

Hiroki's eyes showed only alarmed confusion. 'Because you've got nowhere else to go, and—Nowaki, what the hell are you doing?'

'Shouldn't I be asking you that?' the boy snapped. 'Am I in your house because I've got nowhere else to go, and not because you want me to be here?'

'Nowaki—'

'I don't know what happened with you and Shinoda-san, I don't want to know, I just want to know why you've apparently forgotten that it was _you_ who said you loved me all of twenty-four hours ago—'

'Nowaki, you—'

'Stop saying my name!' Nowaki almost shouted. 'I don't even know what it is about me that's suddenly not enough for you, but I'm going to find out what it is and fix it before you take your words back, because you _can't _take your words back!'

When had his hand slid up beneath Hiroki's shirt? Was that why the man was shaking too? Was that why he was _struggling_ as though this was the last thing he wanted?

Everything felt hot and heavy; his movements seemed too slow to his eyes. _Touch me, take me._

_Love me!_

'Nowaki, _shut the fuck up!_'

That was probably why the slap rang so loudly through the apartment, which in one second had gone from heated to nauseously cold. Nowaki shrank back, panting, and hoped with all his breaking heart that Yuichi had not felt half as miserable after his own rejection.


	18. Flash in the Pan

_A Flash in the Pan_

**[A/N] Late again. -_- Moushiwake arimasen, everyone... college hates me is all. And now it's almost exam time here so I'm DYING. xD After this will be an update for TCATF and then I guess I'll be finishing off SHT's last two chapters if I can wring out the time from the wet blanket that is freshman year... *sweat* On an unrelated topic, I am now officially switching to Linux fangirlism and as a programmer I highly recommend it – LibreOffice beats the hell outta MS Word for writing any day, even FFNet says so though not in as many words. xD Anyway, enjoy! Oh, and no Egoist tension-letting in this chapter for you~! We still gotta take a look at what Shinoda and Tsumori did, ne? :D**

oOo

_Shinoda_

At twenty-one years of age, Tsumori Yuichi had lost some of his sulky droop, but not all. His eyes—a strange color that hovered between deep brown and pale gray—were lifeless and his shoulders slumped. Despite this, Shinoda noted rather grudgingly that the brat had turned out quite handsome.

Nonetheless, he was halfway to regretting his decision already.

_This world really is too damn small._

He sipped his coffee in silence, letting the babble of the cafe hang awkwardly between them. Letting his gaze hang over the kid he hadn't seen in years, feeling a mix of disinterested aversion and compelling curiosity. In the end, it all came down to curiosity, didn't it?

_Am I telling myself that there isn't the slightest bit of jealousy involved in this? That I only want to know what happened with Kamijou and the Nowaki kid but not mess with them?_

_I suppose I am, but I can't say I believe it just yet._

Twenty minutes passed before Yuichi spoke up. 'Shinoda-san, I do not think I asked you to meet me so we could have coffee together.'

Shinoda sighed. _Looks like that's all the time I'm going to get._ 'Fine.' He lowered his coffee cup from his lips, where he'd been using the steam as a scanty shield from Tsumori-kun's eyes as he made his observations. As he sat up straighter and Yuichi followed suit, he asked himself yet again why he'd gotten himself into this, and yet again, came up with no good reason.

'I saw Kamijou in Shinigawa district with the kid who used to—help you out—around the house', he said carefully. 'Explain.'

Yuichi raised an eyebrow, but his face was just exhausted. 'I haven't seen Nowaki in two days, and today I get a call from you, of all people, telling me you know the person he's apparently living with now. You explain.'

Shinoda's voice was sharp. 'You want an explanation for that? Here's the deal—I know Kamijou all right, and it would interest me to know how he ended up with Nowaki in the first place. In other words...'

_So is this what it really is... a game of information?_

'You tell me the whole story with Nowaki—and how he's suddenly not living with you anymore, because no one knows that if not you—and I can tell you exactly where he lives now.'

_What a deal..._

_If we actually agree to this, it'd be a triumph of the worst kind of selfishness._

_Well, I already know he's a spoilt prick, and I've never pretended to be a saint..._

'What a deal', muttered Yuichi, uncannily in sync with Shinoda's own thoughts. The older man raised an eyebrow. Whatever reactions he had expected... outrage, indignation, scorn... this had not been one of them. This dull acceptance was just bewildering.

_He's seriously considering this shitty deal?_

_Maybe he just misses Nowaki that much,_ he mused. _Should have figured out that this would have happened before he did whatever he did._

_...what did he do, anyway?_

_And just what in hell am _I _doing here?_

'You said "exactly where he lives"', Yuichi said meditatively, slicing through Shinoda's progressively more off-center train of thought. 'Why should that make a difference? It's not like I'm about to go up to Kamijou's front door and ask to see him.'

Grateful for some external stimulus, Shinoda merely shrugged. 'Just saying. In case you wanted to know.'

'That's not the sort of thing I'd want to know', Yuichi snapped. 'It'd actually be of more interest to me to know _how_ you know so much about this Kamijou.'

Shinoda registered the dull pain in his gut with some astonishment. _I can't possibly have liked Kamijou that much._ 'That, Tsumori-kun, is none of your business.'

'It could be my business', Yuichi countered with a glare. 'Nowaki is my business. By extension, who he lives with is my business too.'

'And how can you say Nowaki's your business, hmm? It's obviously because of you that he's gone—'

_'You don't know that!'_

'True, I don't', Shinoda said, frowning. 'I can make a guess, though. Unless you're willing to tell me what happened?'

'No.' The younger man practically spat the word. 'I still don't understand your motives at all, and we're not getting anywhere unless you do a better job of explaining them to me.'

_See, I wouldn't really mind that. The problem is... I'm not sure what I'm doing, myself._ Except... he knew that when he thought of Kamijou's panicked face, some hitherto undiscovered knot in his chest seemed to ease a little. _All I know is that it's oddly satisfying to mess with him._

_He was just my type of man... easily flustered, easy to get a rise out of. I guess I miss that._

_But then again..._

He eyed the sullen kid across him appraisingly.

_You promise to be quite a bit of fun too._

'I have a score to settle with Kamijou', he said at last; it wasn't as close to the truth as it should have been, but no one had to know that. 'Let's just say it would be convenient if I got to see him a couple of times again.' _With new soft spots to target?_

_With new soft spots to target._

_I still don't know what I'm doing, but it would be nice to see Kamijou get worked up, that's for sure. And maybe I can mess with this brat a little too._

_I can't stand him._

Yuichi was silent; his eyes, too gray to match either the table or their coffee, too brown to match any shade of gray that Shinoda had ever seen, stayed resolutely on the older man's face. _He doesn't believe me? In any case, it's as good as he's going to get._

'Somehow, I think you're screwing around', he mumbled after a moment's silence. _What was your first clue?_ 'You don't really care—you're just along for the ride, aren't you? If that's the case, you could do me a favor and say so instead of feeding me half-assed lies.'

_Ah..._

_Well, maybe I can stand you a little._

Shinoda smiled pleasantly. 'You got me, Tsumori-kun.' That assessment had been far more accurate than anything he'd come up with himself, and he found he didn't really mind that.

'Yuichi', said the man absently in reply.

'I'm sorry?'

'Call me Yuichi. Everyone does. "Tsumori" is for my mother and all her formal business shit.' He raised a shoulder and let it fall in a half-shrug. 'So this is more like the deal I was expecting. You know, I've changed my mind about earlier—I don't intend to drop in at Kamijou's or anything, but it would be nice to know where he lives anyway. You tell me that, you tell me what happened with you and him so I have an idea of—'

'What happened with me and Kamijou was never part of the deal. I made that clear', said Shinoda stiffly.

Yuichi made an impatient, expansive hand gesture. 'Fine. Just tell me where he lives, and I'll think about telling you what happened with me and Nowaki. I said I'll _think_ about it, mind you. You're getting something more important than that anyway, right? You're getting to mess with me as well as Kamijou for whatever motives you have.' He sighed briefly before continuing. 'I don't care now. I'm right here. Go on, fuck with my head as much as you like.'

Shinoda's mind was inexplicably still.

No questions arose in him, no wisecrack comments formed... all he was aware of was a dull wonder. _He wants Nowaki back that much?_

_...or maybe he just has no pride._

_Okay, I can stand him more than a little. If I'm not careful I may end genuinely wanting to help him._ He almost chuckled at this last thought, though more at its likelihood than at its absurdity.

_He's conceited and has obviously never gone without something he wants, and he doesn't even realize... but on some level, he's just like me, isn't he?_

_Let's find out..._

'You're pretty much putting yourself at my disposal,' Shinoda mused out loud. When Yuichi nodded impatiently, he continued, 'And what about Kamijou? This deal would mean some pretty nasty moments for him in the future when none of what's happened is his fault.' _If you know Kamijou well enough, you may be tempted to torment him anyway, but that's a different story._ _It may just be only mine._ 'Am I to assume you have no problems with that?'

'Yes', said Yuichi. His reply was neither too quick nor too slow. 'He's come into this of his own accord, I'm sure. Nowaki and me are none of his concern.' Seeing Shinoda's carefully arranged blank expression, he scowled. 'I'm sorry, Shinoda-san, but what part of of our conversation gave you the impression that I'm a _good_ person?'

..._I may have to rethink my impression of him yet again... it's too early for me to tell if I can stand him or not._

'None whatsoever', he said charmingly. 'Deal, _Yuichi?_'

Yuichi just raised his eyebrows. 'Of course.'


	19. Melting

_Melting_

**[A/N] Slight canon butchering at twelve o'clock. Brace yerselves.**

**Also, this is a short chapter, but the next one will be worth it. ^^**

oOo

He had never felt so cold.

The eyes stayed on him from the corner, wide and—as much as he did not want to see it—terrified. Hiroki took a deep breath, then another. The temperature in the apartment seemed to have dropped by several degrees, but no amount of air could compete with the chills blooming in his chest. He was dimly aware that he was shaking just as much as Nowaki.

After what felt like hours, he found himself leaning against a bare patch of wall next to one of his ubiquitous book towers. His addled state of mind had begun to peel away with that almost painfully dispassionate kiss, and now he was certain he could hear some part of his usual self ordering the rest of him to get up or get out.

_What the fuck just happened to me? What's been happening to me all day?_

_Can I just say it doesn't matter anymore?_ he asked himself, but felt sickened immediately afterward. _How does it not matter when—_

The blue desperation in Nowaki's eyes was the coldest of all.

_When Nowaki's right there?_

_When it's my fault that he's there, instead of here?_

'_What are you thinking, Hiro-san?'_

He had been lost in thought all day and yet, when confronted with a question, had nothing to show for it. _I ran into Shinoda. ...And on the heels of me giving up ten years' worth of unrequited love, it..._ Shook him up a little? Frightened him?

What had frightened him so much?

'Nowaki?' he whispered.

The response was immediate. The voice was tiny. 'Yes, Hiro-san?'

Hiroki reached out with one shaking hand, palm up towards the ceiling as though asking for Nowaki's touch. It could not be farther from the truth; he felt grimy, somehow, and if the hand that had slapped his lover minutes ago came anywhere hear the boy's skin again he would probably be sick. 'Come here.'

Nowaki did not obey; instead, he drew his knees up to his chest and put his arms around them, never taking his eyes off the brunet's face. Ridiculous height or not, he had never looked younger.

'If you won't come', the older man said shakily, trying his damnedest not to show his dismay, 'is it okay if I come over there instead?'

He saw the dark head bob in agreement before mumbling an apology and thought he might vomit from his anxiety. Y_ou're sorry? Why are you sorry?_

Slowly, slowly enough to stop if he saw any signs of discomfort from Nowaki, he began shuffling forward on all fours. The dim idea of standing up and walking over presented itself to him and was shaken away. He felt like he could stay on the floor all his life.

Nowaki stayed where he was.

When Hiroki neared his lover, too many words rose up in his throat at once and were wrung out as a quiet, 'Are you okay?'

Again, the response was immediate. 'Yes. Are you?'

'Yes', Hiroki whispered, but he found himself unable to look Nowaki in the eye and spoke instead to his cheek. Mercifully, the one he had slapped was facing the wall. 'But you're not okay.'

'Of course I am.' Already the voice was regaining its reassuring softness. When a large, warm hand rose to try and touch Hiroki, though, he shied like a frightened animal. His heart thumping, he hoped his wide eyes would tell Nowaki what he needed to know—that the touch of something so pure would burn him right now—and fell back on his knees.

'Shinoda was someone I used to know', his voice was saying; it sounded hoarse and unexpectedly normal. 'Met him during one of the worst times of my life. Seeing him—'

He broke off for a moment and resumed somewhat frantically.

'Seeing him again reminded me of some things I needed to think about.'

'Have you finished thinking?' Nowaki asked gently; just gently enough that Hiroki could feel his heart struggling with itself. He nodded, horrified.

'Then it's okay, right?'

'No.' His voice was no more than a whisper again. _Oh, god._

He watched Nowaki's clutching arms fall away from his knees and tensed, lest they try to touch him instead, but they merely hung at his side as he sat up on his knees like Hiroki was doing. 'Hiro-san', Nowaki said finally, after another century-spanning silence. 'Hiro-san, will you be okay if I am?'

_Will you ever understand?_

_Will someone as pure are you ever understand what it's like to live with these thoughts?_

'I don't know', he was forced to admit, hoping he could be heard over the mortified murmur of his voice.

_Will you ever understand what it's like to love someone like you?_

'Ah.' Nowaki shrugged and then—to Hiroki's unending astonishment—smiled. It was a wide, unabashedly sincere smile, one that his lover had seen all too often and had been all too scared of never seeing again; his years sprang back into his face and just like that, he was recognizable as the seventeen-year-old who had slid a hand up under Hiroki's shirt a day ago.

_People are supposed to look younger when they smile. Do you look older because you're happier now?_

_I love this person,_ he thought helplessly.

'Hiro-san', Nowaki said softly, 'I'm cold.'

_Really..._

'Got it', Hiroki managed to mutter before finally throwing himself at Nowaki. _There really is nothing I can do about it._

_I love you so much that I don't know what to do with myself._

His lover's warmth crept back into him, inch by cautious inch, until he found himself positively weak with relief. There was no denying now that he'd missed this, no more than he could deny that he would fight all of hell rather than face the prospect of leaving it again.

Nowaki smiled into the man's neck. 'If you're not okay yet, you will be soon. Right, Hiro-san?'

'Right', Hiroki said immediately. 'I promise.'

But a part of him strayed back to Shinoda's smirking face and wondered.


	20. Open

_Open_

**Additional disclaimer: Ikkaku Madarame and Yumichika Ayasegawa belong to Tite Kubo. I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

oOo

"It's a beautiful day", he heard, if only faintly. "Isn't it, Kusama-kun?"

Nowaki lowered the stack of newspapers he'd been carrying to the ground and straightened up, rubbing his back, to regard his coworker with as much incredulity as he could muster. "Madarame-san...?"

The tanned, muscled man scowled impatiently, apparently hearing the question that Nowaki had not asked. "I should be the one looking at you like that."

Something in Nowaki's mind let out a tiny _oh_ that was equal parts relief and frustration at himself. _So he's concerned. If he's concerned, I must be acting strange. If I'm acting strange—ugh, of course I am—that means I'm..._

_Oh,_ his mind repeated dimly.

He stifled a sigh. "I'm just a little tired is all", he offered in a voice that was as steady as he could make it, but he chose to keep his eyes on Madarame Ikkaku's gleaming bald pate rather than meet his gaze.

"Tired, you say..." Madarame made no effort to disguise his own sigh—_impatience?—_as anything else. "Kusama, it's four in the morning. We're all a little tired, we always are." A shrug. "Although I gather you work a bunch of other jobs—"

_One less than I did just days ago. Why did I even say that I'm tired? I've never been more awake in my life than I have over this last week..._

_But I'm tired._

Madarame had stopped speaking at some point; not caring whether it was from exasperation or if he had just run out of things to say, Nowaki hurried to take advantage of the silence rather than interrupt the older man. "I should be fine, Madarame-san, though I'm grateful for your concern."

His thoughts seemed to titter, still shying away from the source of the tension that so visibly stretched across his face.

_I can't go there just yet. There's work to be done._

Work, and money, and college maybe... and studying, and books, and... his tutor...

_No._

That was it. That was his answer to all the questions in his head, whether it made sense or not, and it would have to do for some time.

_Stop it. Stop thinking._

Madarame turned away and Nowaki thought he could see the tightness in the man's shoulders, obvious through the form-fitting shirts that he favored, slither away in defeat. He told himself that he couldn't afford to care.

_But _he_ does. People care. Even if it's curiosity and not affection, they must be wondering._ Wondering what had happened to his smile. Wondering at the strain in his face, the sharpness of his denial.

There was the flower shop shift after this... Then the construction site... God, the construction site...

_I'm so tired..._

The angry stinging of his eyes died away as quickly as it had come, replaced by amusement. _I'm back to square one. Exhausted and alone and on the verge of tears... I'm right where I started, and what do I have to show for it?_

"_Welcome back, dahling", _a voice purred in his head—a voice that he barely recognized as Yuichi's after the events leading up to his running away. That faux-predatory demeanor, those glinting eyes that had never hinted at anything but malice... Had they been hiding the truth all along?

_I don't even know what the truth is; I didn't exactly hang around long enough to find out. But one way or the other, it's clear even to me that my home was never with Yuichi._

Then where was his home? With Hiroki? Amusement long gone, he let out a dry chuckle nonetheless. _Let's not go there,_ he thought, almost gently. _What am I being gentle for? Myself?_ But for a moment he could have sworn it was Yuichi's voice he had been talking to.

"_Hang in there, dahling. It's not like things are going to get better anytime soon."_

_They are. _Nowaki shook his head vehemently. _They are going to get better. It's that sort of thinking that'd keep me from moving forward._

_But... which way is forward?_

_Yuichi? Which way is forward, Yuichi?_

"You're going the wrong way."

"Am I?" Nowaki mumbled out loud. _But I'm not really moving at all right now, am I?_

"Kusama, you're going the wrong way."

Nowaki twitched and his vision, relegated to a forgotten corner of his whirling mind, seemed to return all at once; he was on his bicycle with a bundle of newspapers piled into the basket, his fingers curled loosely around the rough handlebar grips and one foot already at the pedals. He could remember doing none of this.

_God fucking dammit._ "I'm sorry, Madarame-san." He tried to fight the urge to lower his head onto the handlebars and succeeded narrowly. _Tired_ no longer even covered it; what he felt was defeated.

"Listen", Madarame said suddenly as Nowaki began wheeling his bicycle around, voice more gruff than it had been. "I'm not going to ask you to come talk to me if you need to, because I know you're not into that shit—you're the kind of kid who'll keep going until they explode or crash and not think about what's wrong until it's too wrong to fix. But try to remember something."

The boy beat down another sigh and offered a quiet "Alright".

"I don't know what you think your purpose in life is, but whatever you're thinking, you've got it wrong. The purpose of living is to be happy. Do what you gotta do but don't forget that if you're making yourself unhappy, you've lost sight of what it means to live."

He coughed unconvincingly and clapped Nowaki on the shoulder. "That's all I've got to say to you. Now I should be going on to my own route. Hang in there,

—_dahling—_

Kusama-kun." As he turned away and broke into a jog, Nowaki heard him call out someone's name—_Yumi?—_"Yumichika, wait up!"

_Yumichika...? Do they even work here? _He had never heard the name before. _Is that a man's name or a woman's?_

He shrugged and began to pedal away. _Not my business._

_Madarame-san says all I have to do is be happy. Sounds so simple, so idealistic, so naïve, so..._

_So true..._

If he was unhappy, had he lost sight of what it meant to be alive? _But have I ever truly been happy? If I was never happy, was I ever even alive? Have I been living in a nightmare?_

But he had not been in a nightmare this whole time... No, he had woken up just a few days ago, woken to a kiss and a scowl and fiery brown eyes and... Woken to heat and to the urgency of an older man's thrusting hips, to the slippery new sensation of falling apart as he... as _they..._

_Oh god..._

The dawn, still tinted orange in the light of the streetlamps, was cool against his heating face. _Why do I have to go red now?_ He thought furiously.

_Why when all I did was wake up from one nightmare and sink into another?_

It was then that he finally allowed himself to think of last night... and of the doubts that he now felt all but infected with.

_I don't know what I'm doing... I'm living with a man I've known for less than two weeks..._

_I'm living with a man whom I call a man because he's four years older _(_though he's barely out of childhood himself,_ a voice muttered derisively, and Nowaki snapped at it to shut up) _but can't handle his own feelings any better than I can mine._

_I'm living with a man who says he loves me._

_Do I love him?_

He had reached his first neighborhood; mechanically, a large hand reached into basket and began throwing newspapers with an aim that accompanied years of practice.

_I'm living with a man who says he loves me._

_But does he, really?_

It was a large, sleepy neighborhood, though he supposed he had no business calling it sleepy at a time when most people would be sleeping anyway. He pedaled along at a leisurely, almost dream-like pace.

_I'm living with a man who says he loves me._

_Then why can't he trust me, talk to me?_

_Why can't I do those things either?_

_Do I love him?_

Three houses to go and on to the next one. The next neighborhood was the one he now lived in.

_I'm living with a man who says he loves me._

_Really, is it so different from living with Yuichi?_

oOo

At five minutes to six in the evening, Nowaki trudged down the street leading to the apartment that he now shared with Hiroki. The dragging of his feet on the sidewalk seemed to reverberate all the way up to his teeth; he felt paper-thin, inexpressibly fragile. _If I trip and fall right now, I won't stand up again for hours._

_Should I have gone shopping for groceries?_

_Could I have?_

There was a grocery store not too far from here, even by his exhausted standards, and he gave the thought a moment of serious consideration before letting it go. _I can't handle carrying anything more than my own weight. _Even his brain was threatening to pull him down to the ground. _Hell... My brain is precisely what's pulling me down._

There was a stubborn sheen of sweat grinning across his forehead. He armed it away.

_Tired, tired, tired._

_No._

He closed his eyes as he neared the corner. Just two more minutes and he'd be... not home, but... home... but... not home...

_Defeated..._

_No._

He willed himself not to fall asleep even though he was moving as quickly as his body would allow him to.

_Broken..._

_No!_

He could not afford to think now. Every strand of thought that floated in his miserable, overcrowded mind turned into a spiked chain the instant he grabbed at it. He was better off not thinking.

"_Hang in there, dahling."_

"Yes", he whispered to the single comforting voice in his head, faintly surprised that he was only just beginning to shake. "I'll do that, Yuichi."

And a voice that was definitely not in his head gasped, "Nowaki?"


	21. No

_No_

oOo

_Yuichi_

_What must I look like now, I wonder?_

What was he seeing in the eyes that had opened only at the sound of his voice?

"Nowaki?" he said again, hoping he was imagining the tremble in that name. _Everything_ was trembling. His knees felt ready to give way; his hands quaked at his sides as they clutched at the bags he carried. Yuichi was certain that even a breeze would send him tumbling and he almost welcomed the prospect. _Anything but this,_ he thought dazedly. _Anything but this silence._

But no breeze came. The two men stood and stared at each other, both wide-eyed and unsteady and bewildered, while the world drifted serenely by.

Nowaki was the first to break the silence, though he seemed to do so with great effort. "What are you doing here, Yuichi?"

"Shopping", said Yuichi glibly, holding up the bags. "Groceries." Inside, he was already tumbling. He was going to get fucking _motion sickness_ from the tumbling. _I'm going to be sick._ His very nerves seemed to rattle beneath his skin.

_He knows why I'm here. …I just wish I knew._

_Shinoda,_ he thought, it was fucking Shinoda; Shinoda who'd told him the address, Shinoda who'd fucking accompanied him. Shinoda who'd led the way into and out of the grocery store, practically swaggering as he swept through the aisles with a bewildered Yuichi in tow. Shinoda who'd pushed the bags into Yuichi's startled rich-kid hands. Shinoda who'd mysteriously said that he'd look better with groceries—smirking all the while—and said, "Go get 'em, kid."

_No, he said "Yuichi-kun". "Go get 'em, Yuichi-kun."_

_He's somewhere close by¸ _he realized. Even if he wasn't actually watching them, he was close by. Yuichi hated himself when he discovered that the thought actually made him feel better.

_Why can't I fucking smirk and snark my way through everything like you do?_

"Will you talk to me?"

oOo

"What happened then?" yawned Shinoda through his coffee.

Yuichi was silent for a while; he was resting his forehead on the warm wooden table, eyes clenched shut. When he did speak, it was to ask, "Why are you even so interested?"

"It's my business to be interested", said Shinoda lightly. "I thought you'd have gathered as much by now, Yuichi-kun." Discreetly, hoping the older man would not see, Yuichi wrapped his arms around himself under the table and bit back the urge to vomit.

"I don't understand", he said. It came out as a wheeze. "This wasn't part of the deal. You gave me the address and I had to tell you what happened with Nowaki—"

"Exactly. How is that not part of the deal?"

"What do you—"

"I said you'd have to give me the full picture of what's been happening between the two of you." Yuichi felt his insides heave as Shinoda continued placidly, "That doesn't exactly end with him having run away—or you throwing him out, which I'm beginning to find a lot less likely. The story's still going on, isn't it, Yuichi-kun?"

_Yeah, it is,_ Yuichi thought fiercely. _It's not over. It won't be over till it's over._

He gritted his teeth and muttered, with no real hope, "Your part of the deal is already done. What's to say that I won't just walk out on you now?" While he supposed there were worse things in the world than having to give someone like Shinoda the full scoop on his (currently rather painful) personal life, the absurdity of it all just made it all the more formal… more _profane,_ even, as though the sheer importance that the man was placing on something so ridiculous was somehow sick.

_This whole thing _is_ sick. _

"How about looking up for a minute, Yuichi-kun?"

The blond grudgingly obliged and was startled to find Shinoda's face inches away from his own, cast into somewhat frightening relief by the light overhead. Two firm fingers found their way under his chin, dragging his head even closer as his already deflated mind blanked with a sudden fear that he had not known he was capable of feeling.

"Do you doubt for a minute", the older man purred, "that you can go back on your word without there being some interesting consequences?"

Yuichi could smell coffee on Shinoda's breath—_black,_ he processed automatically, _with plenty of sugar_. He swallowed, closed his eyes again to shut out the piercing gray ones, and shook his head.

The fingers withdrew as Shinoda leaned back in his seat; Yuichi opened his eyes again, face just slightly red—_anger, not embarrassment, I'm angry that I was so easily cowed—_to see a grin on the lazily handsome features. "In any case, boy, I assure you you'd be a lot worse off without me right now. It doesn't take a genius to see that you're plainly out of your element."

Yuichi had nothing to say to that. _I never really had a love life. I have no business being in my element right now anyway. _

_Wait, this isn't fucking love._

_What is this, then? I made a mess trying to find out and I still don't know…_

"So, we gonna get this started or what?"

He took his companion's nod as an invitation to start and suddenly felt sick all over again. "There's nothing much to say, really. I ran into him on his way back to the apartment—"

"You mean you stood there waiting for him until he came by", Shinoda murmured, yawning again.

"Are you going to let me finish or not?" Yuichi asked through clenched teeth, not expecting an answer, not receiving one. "Anyway—he looked kinda grimy and exhausted as fuck. He was walking with his eyes closed." _He was—_"I called out, and he opened his eyes, and he asked me what I was doing there, and I showed him the fucking grocery bags—"

_He was—_

"Just cut to the chase, Yuichi-kun."

_He was saying my name._ Yuichi opened his mouth to speak and closed it again.

"Something wrong?"

"No", he mumbled hurriedly. "The long and short of it is that he didn't look like he had anything to say, but for some reason he didn't go away either."

"So what did you two talk about?"

Yuichi sighed. "Well, I did most of the talking. I don't even remember half of what I said, I was so out of it—I kept thinking that every sentence would be the last straw and he'd just walk straight past me and into Kamijou's apartment"—he paused briefly, then continued in a rush—"I kept wanting to say sorry to him at least once, but never got around to that—"

"Why should you?"

"Why should I what?" asked Yuichi truculently.

"Why should you apologize just yet? You're clearly not sorry. If anything, you'd do it again." Shinoda made an expansive gesture. "Whatever it was that you did—you're not sorry you did it. You're just sorry that it made Nowaki unhappy."

"If it hadn't made him unhappy", said a very stung Yuichi, "this shit wouldn't have happened. Of course I'm sorry about that. But…"

"But nothing", Shinoda smirked. _What would I have said, anyway? I'm almost glad he cut me off. _ "What happened next?"

"Nothing", said Yuichi, now feeling petulant and cranky and younger than he had in a long time. _I can't stand this man._ "He listened to me babble for a while and said he should be going. But first"—and not even Shinoda could dampen the little smile that now rose to his lips—"I asked him if he would meet me again."

"And he said yes?" There was no denying the surprise in that question.

"And he said yes", Yuichi whispered, looking away.

There was a moment's queasy pause in which the babble of the café hung awkwardly between them. Shinoda sipped his coffee with broody, introspective eyes.

_If there's something more painful than talking to Shinoda-san, it's sitting quietly with him just a few feet away. _The silence was stifling. For all Shinoda's eagerness to hear—and heckle—Yuichi's story, now that he was finished neither of them seemed to feel any sort of relief.

_After all, the story's not really over._

_No._

_I can't stand this silence any more than I can stand him. _"Say, what were those fucking groceries for, Shinoda-san?"

A pale eyebrow rose. "You would have had no reason to go grocery shopping if Nowaki still lived with you."

Yuichi exhaled slowly; he could feel a headache coming on, and was already thinking longingly of his bed. _I get it… I think…?_

"When you see actual signs of what happens when you leave", Shinoda continued, answering the younger man's unasked question, "it gets you thinking. It makes you wonder."

_Oh…_

"And how would you know that?" he asked, his voice more tentative intended.

Shinoda gave a smile that was a great deal more unpleasant than his last. "I believe we're here for your story, not mine. And speaking of which…"

"That's all." Yuichi bristled, tense again. "I've told you everything that happened today. If you really want to know what happened the _other_ day—who am I kidding, of course you do—I'm afraid it'll have to wait. Please", he added impulsively. _I can't do any more talking, not tonight. Telling this bastard the truth feels like being stabbed._

_And he knows just how to twist the knife, too._

"Then it's time we wrapped this little chat up, don't you think?" said Shinoda with an infuriating wink, beginning to rise. Yuichi gladly followed suit. _It's about fucking time, yeah. I swear I'm going to have nightmares of your face tonight._

"Say, kid." The greasy voice was much crisper than it had been seconds ago now that they were out in the cool, blue-cloaked evening. "Do you need me to see you home?"

"What the ever-loving—who d'you think you're—_I'm not a child!"_

"Sure, you're not", replied Shinoda, sounding inordinately surprised, as though he was only just realizing this. "You're still young for someone my age, though. Hard not to feel responsible is all." Before the two men, cars zipped by on their busy ways; the city seemed too bright, too happy, and far too energetic. _Is this how Nowaki feels all the time?_

He no longer had the will even to get worked up; quietly, suddenly hoping his voice would not crack with frustration, he muttered, "Shinoda-san?"

"Hmm?" Shinoda wasn't even looking his way. His eyes had that faraway look again as they danced over the dark, shiny cars.

"Fuck you."

"And fuck you too, Yuichi", Shinoda said grimly without missing a beat. "I'll see you soon."

oOo

**This conversation was my favorite thing in the world to write.**

**Do you understand my pain**

**Do you**


	22. Dreaming of the Impulse

_Dreaming of the Impulse_

oOo

**I feel like this chapter contains references to every single fic I've ever written. -_- I'm actually butchering my own canon here. Dafuq, brain.**

**(Shout out to those of you who might have felt their hearts sink a little just at the title~ You are very right.)**

oOo

Hiroki jerked out of his fitful doze at the sound of the key turning in the lock. He had just enough time to clutch hurriedly at the nearest book and hold it open before Nowaki's socked feet thumped inside.

"I'm home."

He did not know what to make of the voice, did not know whether it sounded resigned or unhappy or just weary even to his own ears; he kept his face hidden in the book, blinking himself awake, as he mumbled a quiet "Okaeri."

_Home, he said. "Home"._

Hiroki sighed.

"Is everything alright, Hiro-san?"

"I'm fine", he found himself saying. He raised his eyes to look at the boy's face at last and found nothing but quiet concern. The withdrawn eyes scanned him for a fleeting but breathless moment before they flit away.

"I see", Nowaki replied, and Hiroki could finally place the tone of his voice. _He's... frightened._

_He's frightened out of his mind._

When he looked down at his book again, he saw that he had been holding it upside down; a wretched, frustrated splash of color stumbled into his cheeks. _He saw it, too._

He stayed motionless until Nowaki had disappeared into the bathroom, his stomach tightening with uncertainty.

_I just don't know anymore,_ he thought miserably.

And, from the look of it, neither did Nowaki. The person that he had uprooted from an entire life to messily plant in his own was as lost as he was. He felt his fingers tighten around the edges of the inverted book, his fingernails digging into the paper until he knew they would leave imprints. It was a mark of how at sea he was that he could not bring himself to care.

Hiroki gazed with glum eyes at the last sunrays streaming in through the window, the dust motes that jabbed at the orange-gold light. Slowly, as though in a dream, he reached out with one hand to try and catch something of that warmth before it left him completely.

_Cold and anxious and hurt and alone. I'm back to square one and what do I have to show for it?_

_The cold..._

_...feels like Akihiko._

oOo

And yet, in the darkness of their shared apartment at half past nine in the evening, their bodies turned to each other in an angry tangle of sheets and succumbed to their need for touch.

Hiroki felt himself slipping away as the boy beneath his hands and around his member—the boy with impossibly dark hair and indelibly blue eyes and an incorruptibly pure heart—the boy named Nowaki, who now had _Hiroki's_ heart just as surely as the stars turned in the sky—held on to him with sweat-slick arms, gasping his name.

_This is all I have._

Spent and shaking, he allowed himself to collapse onto his lover's throbbing chest, his eyelashes grazing the toned skin. _It's Nowaki, _he whispered to himself.

Nowaki's left hand rested on the older man's back while the right traced stumbling patterns on the back of his neck, ticklish enough to reach him him in his post-coital daze but not enough to make him squirm. Hiroki could not suppress a shiver at the sensation; telling himself that it was because of the sweat, he groped blindly around the bed—brushing several times against Nowaki's sensitive upper thighs in the process, judging from the sounds—until his fingers found the hem of the blanket, which he immediately pulled up over them.

"Cold, Hiro-san?"

Hiroki sighed against his lover's shoulder. "Always, Nowaki."

_Thank you for at least trying to warm me up, Nowaki..._

The arms around him tightened.

_...but my cold comes from within._

_The cold is like Akihiko,_ he thought, even as his leg wedged itself between both of Nowaki's, grasping at the warmth like it was all he could do. It really was.

"Nowaki", he murmured as his slender frame shook with another shiver, "I'm afraid of you."

After a very short silence, he felt lips on his forehead, then on his hair. "I understand, Hiro-san", Nowaki was saying softly. "I'm afraid of you too."

_Maybe, just maybe... it's time I visited Akihiko._

oOo

"Here."

Something cold and smooth was thrust into his hands. Hiroki stared at Akihiko's knees for a minute before peering down to find a can of beer.

"That should help", Akihiko said, shrugging, when given a questioning look. "Oh, don't give me that face, I know you drink on a regular basis."

_I did. I used to drink like a fish. I think I just forgot to drink of late is all._

"Thanks", he mumbled, his hands already uncorking the can. The air that pooled between them was at once awkward and comfortable; after twelve long years, he was able to look at his friend with unflinching eyes, and it felt strange.

It felt _amazing._

"Sorry I've been keeping to myself of late", he said quietly.

The author cast him a sideways glance, an eyebrow raised. "You were spending time with your new boyfriend, yes? I hardly expected you to come see me."

Hiroki swallowed a gulp of beer the wrong way in his haste to reply, thoughts of Nowaki burning in this stomach. "That's no excuse, you know—"

"It is", Akihiko said, cutting off his splutter; his eyes were distant as ever, looking deep into Hiroki and, at the same time, straight past him. "I may not have a boyfriend of my own but I know how that feels." And now the violet orbs lowered, roaming aimlessly over his clasped hands. _Takahiro. He's thinking of Takahashi Takahiro._

_I spent all these years baring myself to someone who didn't see, _he thought. _But now I think I understand..._

Halfway through his second beer now and he was already beginning to feel it. "Akihiko?"

Akihiko glanced up from the little notebook that he had begun to scribble in. "Hmm?"

Hiroki tried to say something and could not. He shook his head. "It's nothing", he said hastily.

_I understand now... It's not that you don't want to see..._

"Are you alright, Hiroki?" Akihiko had snapped his notebook shut was giving his friend an unsettling look. "You've been acting funny."

_...you just can't._

"I have?" Hiroki asked defensively.

A little smile flared on Akihiko's face. "It's not like you to come over for a visit and not get mad at me even once. You haven't so much as thrown a book at me. I'm guessing Kusama Nowaki is responsible for mellowing you down."

_You're blind, Akihiko. That's all._

Hiroki ignored the ache in his chest at the other man's casual mention of Nowaki, shrugging, "Maybe I'm done with getting mad." _Maybe I'm done with my anger at you. Maybe I'm done with being bitter at the world for not giving you to me._

_Maybe I'm done with you, Akihiko._

Akihiko's smiled widened impishly at Hiroki's surly response; he looked nothing short of amused. But as he leaned back in his seat, now reaching for a beer himself, Hiroki watched his eyes tiptoe over the ceiling of his enormous apartment and though the man had never looked so forlorn.

_But maybe I don't want to be done._

_Someone as strange and wonderful as you... What goes on in your mind? Why are you so lonely?_

With all the thoughtless freedom of someone who now had little to lose, he reached over and placed a hand on Akihiko's shoulder. _His shirt is really thin,_ he noted with some surprise, _even though the spring has only just started. _He could feel the young author's bony shoulder tense, startled by the sudden contact, then loosen again.

"Why did you say that the beer 'should help'? I never told you that anything was wrong."

Akihiko gave him another one of those looks. "You didn't have to."

_Why has the world left you so lonely?_

"Good", said Hiroki unblushingly, "because then you know how it is. I'm in the mood for something a little stronger than beer. Are you coming with me or not?"

_Why have _I _left you so lonely?_

oOo

**Tl;dr random thoughts on this chapter okay because why not**

**I realize that this is the first time I've penned a Hiroki/Akihiko interaction from the former's point of view. :B It's just so much easier to write from Akihiko's eyes. Do you understand my pain, punks. You do not.**

**I also know that Hiroki is a lot less angry/tsundere in this chapter when talking to Akihiko, as I've lampshaded in the story itself—it's actually my headcanon that Hiroki never was much of a tsundere with Akihiko in the first place, at least not when they were adults. From what I could make out in the manga, Hiroki's feelings usually vacillated between despair and bitterness, but his temper was a real and rare thing and he never lashed out at Akihiko the way he is known to have done several times with Nowaki unless the situation was a serious one.**

**I believe his years of unrequited love did a lot to shape his prickly personality in the first place, which is why he finds himself pushing the puppyish canon!Nowaki away despite his reluctance to do so—it's unlikely that this would have been the case had he come to terms with his feelings at his own pace like he does in this fic, rather than finding himself rejected in the worst way possible. Hence the difference in personality.**

**Staying in character is all very well, but AUs will always have some discrepancies, I suppose. *shrugs***

**Also, I am not happy with the way my brain wants to make the Minimum undertones of the story more prominent D: The first draft of this chapter ended with them sleeping together because they got so drunk. ...No way. *Flips table* **


End file.
